Diplomacy Gone Wrong (Under Editing, Please Go To Chapter 18!)
by little-anonymous-me
Summary: With a shaky relationship with the state of Amestris and the magical community of Britain, a diplomatic party of two plucky state alchemists is sent to Hogwarts. When another mission is surfaced, involving an even more plucky wizard boy and a Dark Lord, Edward Elric is less than thrilled. So is Harry. But there's nothing they can do about it. Oh well. Better get this done with.
1. Chapter 1

_To the Fuhrer-President of Amestris,_

 _You are well-knowledgeable of the uneasy relationships with our country and yours, and the plight between your state alchemists and our magical community._

 _During the previous letter you sent us, with "decisions to improve our countries' two-way relations", the Ministry and I have held your words in thorough discussion and deep thought, and have finalised a decision on our plan._

 _Enclosed in this envelope are further details._

 _Yours sincerely,  
_ Cornelius Fudge _  
Minister of Magic_

* * *

 _To Fuhrer-President King Bradley,_

 _With the sources we have discussed earlier, what are your future plans with your representatives? They will be tended with the Order at their arrival. Write back urgently by owl. We have no time to waste!_

Albus Dumbledore  
Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

* * *

As soon as he stepped into Central's platform, Ed was beginning to regret it.

It wasn't the idea of taking the train - he'd been travelling across Amestris on various means and types of transport with just his brother, whether it be on trains, carriages, cars, on foot, and even on a bandwagon (a long, complicated and embarrassing story). It wasn't even the fact he was travelling with Colonel Bastard instead of Alphonse - maybe a little, but he'd been reassured that they'd keep in touch, so it didn't really matter.

It was where he _going,_ maybe. Being forced by the government. Just because he was a state alchemist. He had instantly accepted the fact he was going to be the State Military's lapdog for as long as he kept that silver pocket-watch by his side... but he never expected _this_ kind of mission to happen. Not ever. It wasn't like he wanted to do it. _Shit._

Mustang, the Flame Alchemist himself, stood high and proud, in front of soldiers with ranks both higher and lower, something that almost made Edward scoff. He wasn't wearing his military uniform - instead wearing a black tie and olive green vest over a plain white long-sleeved shirt, with a brown overcoat draped over. He too, had suitcases that likely contained apparel and other equipment that would hopefully last for the remaining year. Of course, the suitcase would contain a few military weapons, as well as the gloves that brought Mustang his fame.

He'd been talking to Riza Hawkeye for a while now, while those poor soldiers beside her struggled to keep their straight posture and their right arms held high and stiff to their foreheads in salute. Ed couldn't blame them. In fact, he almost felt _sorry_ for those poor dopes who had Mustang as their commanding officer. Then Mustang glanced at him, and their eyes met for a split second, and then he went back to the soldiers.

He glanced at the clock. Something he'd noticed throughout his years of travelling the country was that when he wanted something to finish immediately, time seemed to be frozen and would take forever. On the contrary, whenever he was deep in study at the library and was immersed in an interesting book on alchemy, it would seem like closing time a minute later.

Wouldn't the train hurry up? At least get this crap over and done with.

Ed sighed and took his seat, and began to stare at the floor.

* * *

It had all began two weeks ago.

But why would Ed have to be have to be entangled in diplomacy and politics? But everyone in Amestris knew about the Amestrian-British relations... which weren't so happy and buddy-buddy. Ever since the Civil War in Ishval, things had turned completely downhill. Well, Ed had learned at least a few pointers in history class (as well as pointers from the Colonel and Lt. Hawkeye) that Britain had been turning its back on Amestris since the original riots and civil wars all those centuries ago.

Ed remembered Falman coughing and piping in to say that Britain was never in favour of Amestris, ever since the country had been founded, a huge military-government, stable economy and large population built from scratch all those years ago. Breda came in to say that Britain never agreed with Amestris with _anything_ these days. Ed, however, didn't care. What did it have to do with him and Al?

The Fullmetal Alchemist didn't know too much about the West, but alchemy was definitely unknown in that area. Known only as a legendary practice to unsuccessfully turn metals (or basically any other substance) to gold. Edward had to grunt angrily at these people's ignorance. However, the Colonel went on to explain a legend, that alchemy in the West had not died out, but instead was already there for hundreds of years in the first place. It was what the ignorant and the unlearned called "magic."

Falman, holding a book on that certain topic, had chimed in, saying that you couldn't even call magic "alchemy" anymore - it wasn't even close to being the alkahestry used in Xing.

Alphonse had been listening earnestly. Ed, on the other hand, looked up after transmuting a fork into a spoon, then back into a fork several time. "So what's that got to do with us?"

Ed remembered the Colonel sighing as he straightened up the paperwork. "Well, Fullmetal, the Fuhrer has requested this task of me. And this -" he gave a slight pause before continuing - "involves you as well."

The _task_ in question had involved improving the relationship between Britain and Amestris. Well... not exactly _all_ of Britain. A community of "magics" (Ed felt this as a better way to call them, rather than "wizards" and "witches") had requested of this as well, with their government being known as the _Ministry of Magic._ According to the Fuhrer, an Amestrian diplomatic party of two would be honorary guests at the magic school, _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,_ in order to help understand each other's cultures better - to understand both alchemy and magic for both sides.

"The pupils at this school, they are also your age, Fullmetal," the Colonel said. "So it's expected of you to mingle with them, talk to them, and befriend them as well. Plus it'd be a good experience."

A little annoying to Edward, to be honest. Why would anyone be interested in learning in other cultures this way? And _experience?_

"Wait..." Ed held up a gloved hand. _"Why?_ Why _me?"_

"Like I said before, you're their age, Fullmetal," replied the Colonel. "Plus, that isn't our only mission. It has been requested of another group that - that we protect a certain _someone_ in Hogwarts School."

"And who would that be, sir?" asked Alphonse politely. Ed almost smiled. Leave it to Alphonse to be the good boy and ask nicely.

Mustang went through his large heap of paperwork, and pulled out a folder. Opening it, he read, "Harry James Potter. Fifteen years old. Born July 31. Status: half-blood, whatever that means." He frowned. "These wizards should work on better wording for their statuses."

He handed the folder to the two Elrics, who first noticed the picture in the corner. A boy about Edward's age, with messy black hair, glasses partially broken but fixed with sellotape, and a strange lightning-shaped scar on the forehead. Something Edward noticed... wait, was the picture moving? Ed could've sworn the hair was moving a little, the smile twitching a bit. But it was probably an hallucination... maybe an optical illusion...

Ed's eyes moved down the information presented on the paper, onto a handwritten paragraph, in neat cursive: _Lord Voldemort is back. Harry is the target. Please respond to our request immediately. Thank you for your response and your offer. Hogwarts first term September 1st. Kings Cross Station, Platform 9 3/4, 11AM. Will all be sorted by the Order. - APWBD_

"Lord Voldemort? APWBD?" the brothers had many questions. And what the hell was Platform 9 3/4? There was _definitely_ no such thing as fractional platforms... were there? _And what the hell is so special about this Harry person? Some sort of Very Important Person, VIP, MVP, whatever..._

"All of it will have to be explained when we arrive," Mustang replied, as Alphonse handed back the folder.

"Wait - _we?"_ Ed spluttered. "That means - Al and I - will be going with you-" he was stopped by Mustang lifting a hand.

"You, Fullmetal, and myself. That's it." At Ed and Al's protest, Hawkeye calmed them down, saying that Al could pose a danger and could certainly raise suspicious eyebrows around the young minds of Hogwarts. Ed wanted to be angry, but he understood. Al decided against the idea of becoming a State Alchemist for that very similar reason. To think of consequences in the magical world... oh, hell no. Hawkeye further calmed the two by saying she wouldn't be going anywhere either, and she would be staying close with Alphonse for the remainder of the whole mission, and that they would keep in touch through letters... hopefully.

As soon as the brothers had calmed down, Mustang continued with the topic of the mission - to take the Express train to Creta, then to wait for representatives of the magical community to deal with the transport to the destination. What the means of transport _was,_ Mustang said they had absolutely no idea, which certainly didn't give Ed peace of mind. They would meet at Central in two weeks, to take a train at precisely 9:40AM, for a journey that would take about 2 to 3 days. Why not a train to Kings Cross? It wasn't possible.

"But wait," Ed said indignantly. "What's in it for me? We've been looking for the Philosopher's Stone for three years-"

"-with little lead," Mustang cut in. "Hogwarts - and the magical community in particular - have hundreds of resources that include alchemy - not that much, Fullmetal, but still some books. Hogwarts' library is full of so many resources, that it trumps Central's own." Noticing Ed's widened eyes, full of eagerness and fervor, he almost chuckled. "And you'll be spending a whole year there. A whole school _year,_ that's how long your possible leads will be at your fingertips. So, what do you say, Fullmetal?"

Ed looked at Mustang, then at Al. So much possibilities to get their bodies back... but to leave his brother? _No._ Al looked at him, however, and whispered, "Do it, Brother."

"But-"

"Don't waste this chance, Brother!" Al protested angrily, and those little red spheres in his helmet locked with Ed's own golden eyes. "What if there is a chance to get our bodies back? You can't waste it! Besides," _(if Al could smile, he's probably doing it now,_ Ed thought) "this might be a chance for you to have some new friends."

"What? _JERK!"_ Ed punched his brother playfully with his automail arm, much to the amusement of Mustang and his unit. Then he turned to Mustang, and nodded. "I'll do it."

Mustang nodded. "'K. Good then. See you in two weeks." He handed Ed a small envelope, marked _'INFORMATION.'_ "This is all the information for the mission, and where to meet me and when. All that. See you, Fullmetal."

* * *

The train was so _awfully_ fucking slow.

Ed stared outside as they passed several landscapes. On his lap was a book on _English._ He hadn't been warned of this new language that was the tongue that everyone in Britain spoke. Sleeping on the bed on the other side of the small cabin was Mustang, who had been sleeping soundly for an hour or two. If he wasn't awake, Ed would've went up to the Flame Alchemist and complained. How the _heck_ was he able to learn the language in less than two weeks?

Mustang and Lt. Hawkeye had arrived early in the morning to pick him up to examine him on his English skills. Alphonse had read some of the books Ed had been analysing over, and had passed with a very good grade. Edward, on the other hand, according to Mustang, had not even scraped a "satisfactory" in his books. It wasn't fair. However, thanks to the assistance of Alphonse and Hawkeye and a quick hour-long cram session that morning, his understanding of English had improved. However, hearing the fact that English is one of the most hardest languages to grasp for non-speakers did not help Ed feel better about it.

The cabin was small, and tight. _Kudos to Mustang for being a cheapskate and purchasing third-class,_ Ed thought, in irritation. It was a small room out of three in a third-class carriage, which only contained two beds, a tiny desk and chair in the corner and enough space between them for the servers to pass through and serve them their meals.

Edward was tempted to take out a piece of paper out of his notebook, and write a letter to Alphonse. But what point would there be in it, he wouldn't have been able to send it yet until the end of the journey, and he was not sure whether he would be able to have time to send one. He took off the pen cap and tapped the paper. _What to write?_

He grunted and gave up, and opened the book of English. If he was going to spend the year speaking English, he might as well learn it now.

* * *

Creta was bright and sunny, and Ed might have been able to enjoy it if a handful of Cretans hadn't been giving them dirty looks.

Of course. The border skirmishes. Just a little south of where they were, Amestrian and Cretan soldiers were fighting and risking their lives for their own respective countries.

The Flame and Fullmetal Alchemists took seats at a lunch cafe, and took their orders for their meals. "There is an Amestrian-occupied city in Creta, did you know, Fullmetal?" Mustang turned to look at Ed, who nodded.

"Table City, right? Are we going there?"

"No," Mustang shook his head. "Table City is even further from here. Besides," he lowered his voice. "The British... _wizards_ will be waiting for us." He said the word _wizards_ as if he was tasting something sour and new and exotic in his mouth, and decided he didn't like it.

"Colonel Bastard," Ed spoke in a low voice. "You don't really like this, don't you?"

Mustang raised an eyebrow in reply. "You think I'd want to bring my ass all the way to the West for some political matter, and with a tiny pipsqueak at that matter?"

Ed stood up. "Why you-" But stopped as Mustang looked the other way, as well as the other Cretans. An elderly-looking man in a cloak strode towards the cafe, sporting a long beard and half-moon spectacles, and Ed (he was ready to deny this to anyone who saw) felt a tad intimidated by him, and quickly sat down. _Seriously, who the hell would be stupid enough to wear cloaks in_ this _weather?_ To his surprise, he seemed to be heading towards their table.

He took a seat at their table, to Edward's surprise, but Edward was more surprised to find that Mustang did not look surprised, shocked or anything - in fact, his face was expressionless, despite the old man giving them a warm smile, saying, "Hello there." Holding his hand out to shake, Ed followed Mustang's example and reluctantly took it. It had been an instinct of his to be wary of people he had just met, especially someone who had acted kind and polite. However, at Mustang's stiff nod, he accepted the fact this old man was not a foe.

"My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," he said, smile still intact. As a waitress served Edward and the Colonel their meals, he said, "We have plenty to talk about. Let's talk about it over meals and a good bout of Butterbeer, shall we?"

* * *

Ed gasped for breath and struggled to stand up as they completed the journey with the help of what this Dumbledore man called a "Portkey." Apparently, it was a means of magical transport for witches and wizards. It had been... an _interesting_ experience, with the feeling of being hooked by the navel.

Mustang, the Colonel Bastard himself, despite landing the right way up instead of tumbling onto the floor, looked as shocked as him. "What the _hell_ ride did you take us on?"

Albus Dumbledore calmly looked up at them, and brushed dust off his robe. Something Ed had noticed was that Dumbledore hadn't been speaking English - instead speaking to them fluently in Amestrian. Ed could not help but feel partially impressed at a British wizard who had bothered in learning their tongue.

"And we are in Britain?" Mustang asked.

"Yes, we are," came the happy reply. "In London, most precisely. To be even more precise you would say that we are in Britain's _muggle_ suburban areas."

 _What the heck is Muggle..._ Ed thought, but saved it as a question for later.

"Come," he said. "Let us walk."

They walked on footpaths and crossed roads, but the first thing Ed noticed was how different London was to anywhere in Amestris. The houses looked different, and the cars that drove past were way faster and looked extremely different than the cars back home. Mustang wasn't noticing all this, however; he was deeply immersed in certain documents - which Ed guessed were instructions from the military for this god-forsaken mission.

They turned into a small narrow street. Ed went up to read the street sign, but struggled with the English and the pronunciation of the name.

"Grimmauld Place," Mustang said simply, noticing Ed's plight and smirking.

"How did you-"

"I'm amazing that way," Mustang grinned, then Ed took a glance at the soldier's papers and said, "Hey, you just read it off from the stupid document."

"Actually, gentlemen, you're not pronouncing it correctly, neither of you," Dumbledore said in front of them, and stopped Ed and Mustang's bickering as he pronounced it correctly.

They walked past several houses on the tiny street, and Ed could hear muffled sounds of music he had never heard before, singing - no, _yelling_ words in English, dogs barking and even a colorful choice of word or two. At least this was a small street. All of the houses were all packed together on one side, like soldiers in a straight line.

"What number?" Ed called out to Dumbledore. Finally, their trip was over, and Ed could probably lay down on a proper bed, eat some food that would _definitely_ be better than the ones served on the train, complete some alchemy research and write a letter to Al and head over to the post office (if there was one close by).

"12," Dumbledore called back. Glancing at the numbers engraved in gold or silver or any metal onto signs or mailboxes, Ed was thankful the numbers used in Amestris were the same used in Britain (and in English on the whole, hopefully).

"10...11...13... Where is 12?" Mustang asked. "There's only 11, then 13!"

"Maybe you missed one, Colonel Bastard, you're getting old," smirked Edward. "Let me." He went all the way back to 8, then 9, 10, 11... then _13_? _What the fuck?!_ "Huh, I guess there is _no_ 12!" He glared suspiciously at Dumbledore. "Where is it?"

Dumbledore did not seem to notice the fact they could not find Number 12, until he looked up at them and said, "Oho! Silly old me. Wait." He dove into the pockets of his cloak and pulled out a small piece of parchment. It wasn't paper, Ed noticed, definitely not paper, as he took the piece of what looked like parchment. Paper was thinner and lighter. Mustang took it as well and read it. It was the same neat cursive that had been on Harry James Potter's fact file, also in Amestrian.

"Memorise it, then burn it," Dumbledore ordered. He glanced at Mustang. "I suppose you're good at that."

Glancing at the paper, the two Amestrians read:

 _The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London._

Then suddenly, they looked up, and saw a large house that stood out among the others. A battered door almost looked like they were inviting them in, along with the dirty walls and cobweb-stained grimy windows. Gaping, Ed glanced at the other houses. _They must've not felt anything... is this what their alchemy - their magic - is like?_ The house was what Ed mentally called a "real mess", compared to its neighbours with their well-kept lawns; nicely painted walls; shiny, gleaming windows.

"This is number 12, isn't this, Colonel?" Ed took a deep breath.

"Yup." He placed his flame alchemy glove on, and with a _SNAP_ and a small spark, a fire erupted at the end of the parchment, which dissolved into nothing but ash scattered among the ground.

"Come on, Dumbledore-" Ed turned to the old man, but he was gone. Where was he? He was just _there,_ then... gone. He turned to Mustang. "This could be a trap," he whispered. "Where's Dumbledore?"

"Welp, there's nothing we can do about it, eh?" Mustang sighed. "Let's go in."

* * *

 _This is my first fanfiction and so far, I think I'm doing pretty okay._

 _Constructive criticism and reviews are welcome._

 _Thank you for reading the first chapter._


	2. Chapter 2

_"Hello there"_ \- Amestrian  
"Hello there" - English

* * *

He knocked once, twice, three times. Any answer from the other side? No.

Ed was tempted to do what he usually did back at the Military Headquarters, to the door leading into Mustang's office - pound on the door once, kick it open, and stroll calmly all the way to the bastard's desk. But, sadly, he was _not_ in the Military Headquarters - hell, they weren't even in the same _country_ where they did it. _"Fuck,"_ he whispered quietly. _"Let's go in."_

 _"I make the decisions here, Fullmetal; I don't care if we're in another country or not,"_ Mustang, jerk he was, snapped back. _"Besides..."_ he gave a little smirk at the little alchemist. _"Hopefully you've been practising on your English..."_

Ed clicked his tongue. _"Shut up, I'm gonna do great."_

Mustang opened his mouth to probably reply an insult which contained as much colourful words he knew, then prudently closed it. _"Let's just go in. It's so fucking cold out here anyways."_

 _"Language,"_ Ed jokingly berated him as they opened the door.

* * *

It opened with a creak.

Of course. When a door opens with an agonising _creak,_ the house is either haunted or entangled in some dark, frightening past or plot. It was in the books Roy had read as a child. Open a pitch-black, not-so-welcoming house and that was basically your one-way ticket to your doom. Roy shook his head. No, it was not like that. It _couldn't_ be. This was reality. However, Roy couldn't help but clench his gloved fist, not shaking off the feeling that something was following him and Fullmetal, or at least watching them. _Damn..._ the miserable house could perfectly fit the example of some haunted house out of a horror story.

It was a surprisingly large one, reminding Roy of the residences owned by high-ranking officers in the military, or maybe that mansion the Sewing-Life Alchemist he and his daughter once lived in. But at the same time, it was very obvious that the house hadn't been cleaned or well-kept, at least for a very long time. Cobwebs decorated the ceiling. Dust crept around on the floor.

 _"Where's everyone?"_ Ed whispered. Something Roy had noticed of the young boy, he had been acting miserable, and as people said, _down in the dumps._ Of course, he understood. He was separated from his brother... in a whole different country, to be exact. On some damned military mission including politics and diplomacy and a whole other shit that wasn't supposed to apply to a pipsqueak his age. Of _course,_ it would have been strange if he _hadn't_ been acting this way.

 _"Wait."_ Roy switched to English. To be honest, he wasn't too bad. At least, not as bad as Edward. His grasp and understanding of the language was extremely better than his speaking skills. Still, he cleared his throat and said, "Hello? Anyone... there?"

He noticed Fullmetal hiding a snicker with a cough... probably at his accent and attempts at correct pronunciation. He gave him a quick glare, then they both turned to see a fiery-red-haired woman shuffle towards them. She wore a flowery and bright dress and apron (which, according to Roy, definitely clashed with the doom-y and gloomy air in the house), as well as some... stick in her hand. Roy traced back to earlier in the day, where he and Fullmetal had first met Albus Dumbledore, and he had first presented a tool similar to what the woman held in her hand...

 _"What the crap is that?" Fullmetal whispered._

 _"Don't be impolite, Fullmetal," Roy snapped._

 _"Oh no, not at all," Dumbledore had said quite cheerily. "Now, the Butterbeer I told you about-"_

 _"Butterbeer? What's that?" Edward had interrupted yet again - out of pure curiosity one would expect of a child, Roy would bet - but still earning a glare nevertheless. "We didn't see Butterbeer in the drinks section... besides, I'm underage!"_

 _Roy clearly remembered Dumbledore's laugh as he waved his 'stick' and, almost out of thin air, three tankards of frothy liquid appeared on the table. Roy was astounded. He clearly couldn't have just done -_

 _"Magic!" Fullmetal spluttered out. "You just summoned three freaking mugs out of thin air with a stick! But you can't do that... that goes against the laws of equivalent exchange..."_

 _Roy was half-expecting Dumbledore to look angry, irritated, annoyed; instead, he let out a laugh. "Magic it is, Mr. Elric, and yes, you cannot simply create three tankards of Butterbeer out of nothing. These were merely summoned from Madam Rosmerta's bar, The Three Broomsticks. You should pop by for a visit. And for further information, this is called a 'wand'. Merely a tool to channel magic. A lot like a transmutation circle in your practice of alchemy, is it not?"_

So that was what it was called. _Wand._ A word from magic fairy tale stories. Honestly... Roy expected better.

Then he realised that if the wand could do different kinds of magic, it could be capable of different things. Good things. Bad things. Deadly things. Things that could change history.

 _A lot like alchemy,_ Roy thought. _Perhaps magic and alchemy are not as different as first thought..._

"Hello there," the woman gave a warm smile, but Roy had noticed that she was tired, worried too. He was good at reading people's faces and expressions. A handy skill for a soldier. "You look tired, both of you."(It hadn't occurred to Roy that yes, he _was_ tired. As soon as he heard that word, he felt like wanting to find a nice bed to lay down and rest on. Damn. Did that _thing_ they used... the thing they used to get to Britain drain energy out of people who used it? Or were they really that exhausted from Creta and the train trip? _Shit.)_

She seemed to notice Fullmetal's raised eyebrows, and nodded. "Of course, we've heard Dumbledore was sending you here. He sent an owl."

Either Roy's understanding of English was not as good as he thought, or his hearing was malfunctioning (he had heard plenty of jokes from Edward about him and the fact he was 'getting old'). _Owl?_ _I'll ask her later..._ "Uh... yes, we were sent from Mr. Dumbledore."

"Well, of course he did, he's Secret-Keeper for this house, he set the Fidelius Charm upon it, and the only way you two would've been able to enter the house was through him..." Edward and Roy switched looks. Fullmetal looked as confused as Roy was. _Secret-Keeper? Fidelius Charm?_ But Roy was beginning to grasp the concept of it. Dumbledore had given them a piece of parchment that told them of the house's address, hadn't he? Didn't the house just appear afterwards? Magic, definitely. Not alchemy. Could alchemy even produce a similar result like _that?_

"Well, I'm Mrs. Weasley, it's a pleasure to meet you." Something Roy noticed was that she was talking at quite a fast speed. She held out her left hand, which Roy took (if he could, he would have been a gentleman and kissed her hand or give her his 'gentleman air', but decided against it). Then she did the same to Edward, who shook it as well, looking a little thankful, maybe because he hadn't shaken her with his gloved automail hand (which probably would've raised up some questions and suspicions so early into the arrival, which was something Roy wanted to avoid). "You both look exhausted. What kind of trip did Dumbledore take you on?" She continued, fussing over Edward, and Roy hadn't quite been listening, but he caught the words "little" and "just a child." Damn. Fullmetal looked like he was trying to contain his annoyance. Roy knew that two of the things the Fullmetal Alchemist hated was being fussed over, and being called short. Despite this, he said nothing, and kept a straight, if not a little expressionless face.

"Well, dears, would you like to go to lunch? The Order are there, it'd be lovely if you met them, and..." she glanced at Fullmetal and looked at Roy for a name.

"Elric," he replied. "Edward Elric."

"Well, Edward, there are plenty of children your age attending lunch, some of them mine, and it would be lovely if you interacted with them, perhaps make new friends."

Maybe Roy was the only one who noticed Edward go stiffer than he usually was, as Mrs. Weasley continued to talk about meeting new friends and interacting with them. He would have to ask about that later... then he caught Edward mumbling something.

"What, Fullmetal? Speak up," Roy told him.

"Not hungry," came the repeated reply. _Huh._ Fullmetal's English wasn't any better than his. But Roy felt like it wasn't his place to judge - especially when these two English words were the first two he had spoken since he had set foot in Britain.

Roy suspected it wasn't just the fact he was not hungry that he was avoiding the lunch table.

"Actually, Mrs. Weasley," he looked at her and gave her a kind smile, "We are very tired. Not hungry. We eat - ate food already before our coming here. We would like to rest - maybe small sleep. Thank you."

Mrs. Weasley gave a small smile back. "Well, if you wish... I'll show you to your rooms. Let's not make a drama at lunch and let's take a shortcut to your rooms. And, mind, try to be quiet... we don't want to wake up anything on the way."

* * *

They climbed a stairway, walked a couple of halls, then Mrs. Weasley opened a door.

It wasn't one of those fashionable, rich, over-the-top bedrooms that Roy had been expecting. Of course, in a house like this, would a bedroom like that fit into the theme? Roy almost laughed.

At least the bedroom was reasonably large. A closet and two chests laying against the wall in the corner. Two separate beds, neatly made, but Roy suspected that they hadn't been slept in for a long time. There was a small desk and drawer on the side, which Roy had imagined where Edward would place all his books and work on alchemy and English. But there was enough space. The bed looked comfortable. Roy noticed Fullmetal glance around his surroundings. Mrs Weasley also seemed to notice that.

"Don't worry, Edward," she reassured him. "There's no Boggarts or Doxys in the closet, the chest, the drawer - nothing bad. We cleaned this place up for you before your arrival. The children's rooms are your neighbours, so it'd be nice if you met them after lunch, or whenever you feel ready. This'll be your home for a while, so make yourselves comfortable. An Order meeting is tonight, and Harry'll be arriving tonight as well, and he's the same age as you, and it'd be lovely for you two to become friends."

Roy noticed it again - Fullmetal's posture becoming more stiff, his feet shifting, almost nervous. Yep. He was _definitely_ going to confront Fullmetal about this. But Mrs. Weasley had mentioned _Harry._ Harry Potter? The special person involved with the Order and Britain-Amestris diplomatic plan? And what the hell were Boggarts? Or Doxys? From Mrs. Weasley's tone, and the reassurance in her voice that there was none in the room seemed like they were bad news.

"Thank you once again," he smiled, and slightly inclined his head for a bow. "We will get our small rest."

He heard Fullmetal mutter softly, _"Thanks,_ _"_ then realising his mistake, switched languages, cleared his throat, and said louder: "Thank you."

"If you're hungry, just call, okay?" she gave one more assuring smile, then she closed the door, leaving Fullmetal and Roy alone. He felt happier, to be honest, and now he'd be able to speak to Fullmetal in Amestrian.

 _"Shit,"_ Fullmetal grunted angrily. He tossed his two suitcases to the side, and climbed up onto the bed. _"I was expecting better."_

 _"Really?"_ Roy raised an eyebrow. He removed his Flame Alchemy glove and stored it into his tiny case of... well, other pairs of Flame Alchemy gloves. He had decided to bring it. It was better being safe than sorry. To his surprise, Fullmetal immediately stood up, and opened one of his suitcases, bringing out a black fountain pen and a notebook. Roy stared. _"What are you doing?"_

 _"Writing a letter to Al. It's none of your business."_

 _"Wow, it's only been about... three days and already you've been missing him?"_

Edward looked up, and locked eyes with Roy, who, in that small instant moment, understood. Of _course._ Alphonse was the only family Fullmetal had ever known. He didn't want to leave his brother for the damn trip to Britain, and still Alphonse had persuaded him to go. Of course. Now he was miles away from home, from his brother, not knowing what had happened to him. Then, Fullmetal spoke. _"Well, he'll be the only person I'll be contacting over the fucking holidays. And the rest of the year, right? I'll be away from Alphonse for THAT long. I need to keep in touch with him."_

 _"Alphonse definitely can't be the only person you'll be talking to throughout the span of our mission. What about the children Mrs. Weasley was talking about? They're your age. Plus, she said Harry Potter's your age too, so it'd be nice if you had a friend to talk to. Also, it'll help with giving me some personal space. Alone time."_ Edward raised an eyebrow, but Roy continued on: _"I saw you, Fullmetal. You looked as stiff as hell when she mentioned the kids. You looked nervous. It was almost kind of funny."_

 _"Well, it's not like I want to talk to them,"_ Edward grunted, and returned to writing his letter. As far as Roy was concerned, the letter only contained two words: _Dear_ and _Al._ Dear Al.

 _"You can't be alone for the rest of the school year, and I'm pretty sure I don't want you sulking around me most of the time ignoring the others. They're bound to talk to you anyways."_ Roy smirked. _"Mrs. Weasley's a mother, right? She seemed like the type to force her kids to talk to others and make new friends."_

Edward said nothing, and Roy was worried - a _little_ worried, not a lot - that he'd hit a hard spot for Fullmetal. His _mother._ Of course. The reason, the base, the _root_ of why he had become a State Alchemist, which had led to him obeying the order of going to Britain. He shook this off, and said, _"You want food?"_

 _"No."_

 _"Good. Me neither. We ate at the Cretan cafe anyways."_ He unpacked his luggage, and placed a fresh change of clothes by the bedside, and hung the rest of his clothing into the closet. He took the occasional glance at Edward, who seemed to still ponder over his letter to his younger brother.

Roy felt tired. He'd felt exhausted since the trip with what Dumbledore called a "Portkey", but he'd felt tired way before, despite sleeping almost the whole duration of the three-day long train ride from Central into Creta. He glanced at the folder he placed on his bedtable. Instructions from the military for their mission, including fact files on Britain, a little on Hogwarts and a fact file on Harry Potter. Roy had been genuinely curious about it. But why would the Amestrian government choose to make amends with Britain _now?_ Hadn't the place been upset at the Amestrians since... well, since the beginning of the first bloody civil riot in Amestris' history?

But whatever. Roy didn't have to care about the politics and the diplomacy. He'd only agreed to partake on the mission as it would give him a good name, a promotion, maybe even transfer to Central City, maybe. But he'd think about that later. Drowsiness was slowly taking over him. He glanced at Edward, still staring at the still-mostly-blank paper. _Maybe I should write to Hawkeye... tell her I'm doing fine... hell no, that'd be a little weird, though..._

 _"I'm going to sleep,"_ Roy declared. _"Wake me in an hour or so. At least before dinner."_

 _"Sure,"_ came the soft reply. Then Roy turned in his blankets, and closed his eyes.

* * *

 _Dear Al,_

 _We're doing all right here. Train trip to Creta was absolute HELL. The transportation we used to get to Britain was even worse. Damn. September 1st was the date, right? At Kings Cross? To leave to that fucking magic school. If only we could take a train straight to Kings Cross, then to Hogwarts on September 1st, instead of coming here weeks before..._

 _But that's pretty much it that's happened. The house we went to, it was magic! Magic, little brother! What I don't understand is how we read a letter written from this guy (Dumbledore, met us in a Cretan eating place or something, long story), and then a house would just appear, leaving the houses beside it unaffected? It's definitely magic, Al. Alchemy couldn't do this. No way. But if magic could be capable of things alchemy couldn't ever do, then maybe we could ditch the Philosopher's Stone and find a magical solution instead... but I'm not getting my hopes up. No way._

 _I hope it's alright there back in Amestris and that Lt. Hawkeye and the military aren't giving you a hard time. Fuck, I hate how I won't be with you for about a year. A YEAR. It's not fair! It's good that they say time passes fast, however. One minute, I'm sulking about being separated from you. The next, we're together in Amestris, searching for another lead on the Stone._

 _But enough of me. How about you? Write back urgently as soon as you receive this letter. Colonel Bastard's told me you're staying at Lt. Hawkeye's place, so I think I've done the correct address. Hope you're doing well. Your big brother wants to hear from you right away, you know._

Ed tapped the pen against the paper, again and again. What else to write?

For some reason, he felt that he didn't need to bother Al with information on Dumbledore. He was as mysterious as the Scarred Man who prowled the streets, searching for State Alchemists as prey. He remembered the day they first met. The day after... the Tucker incident.

He shook the memories away. Nina was _dead._ She was as dead as his mother, Trisha. Dead and gone to wherever deceased people went after their demise. He had to focus on writing to Al.

But what else could he write? He felt like he had what authors had - writer's block, except for a letter. It wasn't like he was going to write about other children in his age year in his letter. Curse them. He didn't feel like talking to any of them. Besides, why would anyone be interested in interacting with _him?_

He signed off, _Yours truly, your brother Ed_ then folded the paper. He glanced around. _No envelope. Damn, I should've remembered to pack some. It's not like I'm going to go out of the room and ask the magic people for an envelope._ He sighed, and took a glance to his left. _Mustang's asleep. Great._

He stuffed his letter to Al in his red trench coat and took out the books he had taken with him. In fact, the only reason why he had brought a second suitcase was to fit his books and research - mostly on alchemy, but he had felt obliged to bring a book or two about English and study. He felt proud of himself, studying hard English back on the train, and that his understanding and speaking skill of English had gotten way better. Ed had to grin to himself. He'd heard teachers back in elementary school talk about being bilingual as a good thing, especially learning English in further years. He felt smart, intelligent to learn a new language. To be honest, it was kind of cool..

He stopped grinning when he heard voices - _English_ voices - outside the door. Ed froze. The voices were quite loud, but Ed was only able to catch the words 'Harry' and 'Order of the Phoenix' before a door - probably the one next to them - opened and closed with a slam. _Damn... Harry Potter, huh?_

Ed remembered how Dumbledore had told him of Potter's fame; perhaps a government official's son, or someone of a well-off magical family, but surprisingly _no_ \- fame had arrived to Potter because of his deceased parents. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy - well, who _wouldn't?_ Especially when Ed could relate a little... but he hadn't planned on talking to Potter. Not at all. He didn't feel like befriending Harry, regardless of what Mrs. Weasley or Colonel Bastard said. And the Order of the Phoenix... Mrs. Weasley had talked of this as well, hadn't she? What the fuck was that? Ed had many questions... he wasn't sure if they were ever going to even be answered.

 _KNOCK KNOCK._

Two quick taps on the door on the other side caused Ed to look up and be interrupted from his many questions. He glanced at the door, and was surprised to find a long, but small piece of parchment, with quickly scrawled writing. Ed read it over several times, to fully understand it (to be honest in the long run, English hadn't been too much of a hard language at all):

 _We heard from Mum there's a kid our age here._

 _She wants us to meet you._

 _We're next door, by the way._

 _\- G_

Ed stared at the small letter. _G? Huh..._ He glanced at the letter again. _Mum..._ that was most likely Mrs. Weasley. Mustang was right - Mrs. Weasley _was_ the type of parent to make their kids do things like this, meet a newcomer and expect them to become friends. _Next door... probably those voices I heard. Huh._

He felt uncomfortable - as much as 'G' wanted to meet Ed, he didn't want to go next door and just start _talking_ to them. The thought made him uneasy. He felt nervous. _Talking to people his age... besides Al, besides Winry... who else have I talked to who's my age?_ His old childhood friends in Resembool didn't count - he barely went back to Resembool since the day he and Al burned down their childhood home, and when they did, he only swapped a few words of _"hi", "I'm doing fine, how about you?"_ and _"Bye"._ It was stupid, but Ed hadn't bothered talking too much with them. He partially regretted it.

He looked at Mustang. _Still asleep, damn it,_ he thought. Ed wasn't tired at all - after all, he and Mustang perfectly knew the reason why they skipped lunch was not because of already having one, but because of avoiding awkward conversations and meeting people, whether 'Order' members or just kids his age.

But what to do? No point going to a library. He wasn't going to leave the room until dinner came. Damn it.

He grabbed his books on English, opened them up, and began to study.

* * *

Harry did not feel hungry, despite Mrs. Weasley walking up to their room and telling them that the Order meeting had ended, and that dinner was ready. He hadn't eaten anything for hours, yet he didn't feel hunger. Maybe that was what anger did to you. When one was too angry to admit hunger that they didn't feel hungry at all.

Ginny left to follow her mother to clean her hands before meals, and Harry, Ron and Hermione were left alone in the room. Everyone else had gone. It was just the three of them. Harry clearly pictured himself yelling at the two of them, Hermione with tears streaking down her face, Ron left with a shocked, maybe partially nervous expression. It was clear they were nervous that he would yell at them again. He felt a pang of shame.

"Look, we wanted to tell you, but Dumbledore wouldn't let us," Hermione whispered. "We _tried_ to persuade him, I swear-"

"Yeah, yeah." Harry cut off the conversation. "Yeah, I know."

"Mum told us he was gonna come today, mate," Ron started with a shaky voice. "But he just dropped off these two people then took off. That's what Mum told us anyway."

Harry looked at them. He had wanted to end the topic of Dumbledore as quick as possible, but something that Ron had said made him curious. "Two people?"

Ron shrugged. "Yeah. This man and this kid. The kid's about our age, but we haven't seen them. They arrived around noon today."

"Ginny wrote a letter for us to him, and slid it under the door to their room," Hermione continued. "He didn't reply back."

Harry shrugged. "Doesn't matter. But who could they be?"

"Don't know," Ron replied. "I went and pressed Mum for answers, but she wouldn't reveal more. Hermione and I went around asking other members of the Order. They wouldn't say, mate. My best guess it that they're new members to the Order. A father and son, maybe."

"If they were new members, then why did your mother and the Order refuse to answer who they were, though?" Hermione wondered aloud.

"Doesn't matter, maybe we'll find out sooner or later." At least, Ron and Hermione were technically being kept in the dark, just like Harry had been during the summer holidays. The thought made him angry... then he distinguished it, like water with a fire. "We should be getting to dinner, should we?"

They stood and they exited the room. Harry, eager to start again on a new topic, brought up the subject of Kreacher, who had happened to be a house-elf who served the household, and according to Ron, he was a 'nutter', which led to a bickering argument between him and Hermione, which lasted for about a minute, until they were stopped by Ron himself just before they began the stair descent. "Shh... they're still in the hall, so hopefully we can hear what they're trying to say."

Harry saw plenty of wizards and witches, whispering excitedly, recognising some of them, who had helped out Harry and taken him to Number 12, Grimmauld Place. He wrinkled his nose in disgust as he saw the least likely person to be a member of the Order...

"Why's _Snape_ here?" he hissed to Ron and Hermione, who put fingers to their lips. "Yeah," Ron whispered back, "we've been asking people why that _git_ is here... luckily he doesn't eat here. I would've died if he did."

But among the sprawl of wizards and witches in different colours of cloaks and robes, there was one who stood out. Harry couldn't entirely tell from his perspective from his view from the banisters that this one was shorter than the adults, and he wore a bright red trench coat over glossy black clothing - a black symbol that showed a snake slithering around a cross, with a winged crown above it was emblazoned among the red background. His golden-blonde hair was long, and it was tied back in a plait. The trio saw him glance up at the stairs, and for a second, stared at them, then continued walking.

"He's heading towards the stairs..." Hermione whispered.

"Should we run back to the bedroom?" asked Ron.

"No," Harry said. "He saw us already. Plus, it'd be suspicious. So, no."

"I think... I think that's _him,"_ Hermione said.

Harry and Ron stared at her. "Who?"

"Oh, you know! The kid - the kid who arrived today with his dad or something - they came today-" but Hermione's voice stopped at a halt as they noticed the boy standing a couple of steps in front of them. It was hard to tell his expression from his face, Harry could see. He saw the boy, and noticed that his eyes were gold. Almost as gold as his hair.

"He is not my dad," Harry barely heard him mumble.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked politely.

"He is not my dad," the boy repeated casually, hands in his pockets. Harry noticed that his accent was thick - one that could only come from a foreigner, and his English sounded as if he had just learned the language itself. "He is... someone else."

"So who _is_ he?" Ron asked curiously.

The boy's eyes widened a little, like he had instantly regretted saying the last part. "Someone else," he repeated. "But he is not my dad. He is not at all like _my_ dad." His tone said the words "my dad" as if he hated those two words together, as if the words made him angry. He looked like it, but soon returned to his normal composure.

"Well... how old are you?" Hermione asked nicely. It was very obvious they would not get an answer on the identity of the man the boy was travelling with. "Mrs. Weasley said you were about our age."

"Yes, I... am fifteen years. Fifteen years." His accent was still thick and Harry was now certain he was a foreigner. He noticed Ron, who looked a little shocked at the announcement of the boy's age. "What is it? What is wrong?"

"Well... it's just that you're..." Ron scratched the back of his head. "Well, you look a little _too_ short to be our age."

The boy got angry on hearing the word _short._ He stepped forward, saying, "Why you - you call me a microscopic pipsqueak! Don't call me so tiny that an ant can be very tall over me!" He angrily erupted in another language, then sighed and stopped, but still looked irritated at Ron. "Do not call me that."

"Oh... okay..." Ron nodded, then exchanged looks with Harry and Hermione. It was obvious they were thinking the same thing: _Who IS this kid?_

"Now, will you please... what is words for it... um... excuse me please," he smiled slightly, then it disappeared. "I would like rest for little bit."

Harry nodded at the other two, then at the boy. "'K," then the trio stood up and with a final nod, the boy walked up the remainder of the stairs, and disappeared in the room just next to the one the trio had been in.

When the door closed with a small _CLICK,_ Harry said, "Who is he?"

"Bet 5 Galleons and my best pointed hat that he was one of the newcomers," Ron grinned.

"Didn't we say that he was one of them?" Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. She frowned even more. "And you _had_ to call him short. You just _had_ to insult him, didn't you, Ron?"

"Well, I'm saying the truth!" he yelped. "He looks smaller than most fifteen-year-olds! It was just an opinion!"

"I don't think he agreed with your opinion, though," Harry said. "Anyway, his English too... it was a bit off, wasn't it?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, it was. He's definitely a foreigner, and he's probably still trying to learn English." She sighed. "It would've been nice if he had stayed longer, though. We don't even know his _name._ If _someone_ hadn't called him short-"

"Come on, let's go eat, I'm starving," Ron pointed towards the bottom of the stairs, and the other two agreed (Hermione in a reluctant way, however). The Order had gone and disappeared into the next room, and when they completed the stair descent, Mrs. Weasley greeted them with a warning to keep quiet and the directions to the dining room -

CRASH.

Despite Tonks' numerous apologies at Mrs. Weasley, her voice was drowned out by a blood-curdling shriek that gave Harry chills up his spine. It was like the time he secretly gatecrashed Dudley's sleepover a few years back, where Dudley had invited all his friends to watch a horror movie at 3AM while snacking on everything they could find in the refrigerator. During the movie, a woman was brutally murdered, and she screeched. It sounded a lot like the shriek he had just experienced.

A portrait of a woman in black attire, as if dressed for a funeral, was shown as soon as the moth-eaten curtains flew apart, and her appearance was going to give Harry nightmares for the next month as she screamed: "FILTH! SCUM! DEFOULING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS! SHAME UPON YOU! NON-MAGICAL BLOOD INVADES OUR HOME, STAINING OUR PURITY, OUR DIGNITY AS A BLACK-"

Mrs. Weasley had already gotten to work trying to shut the _thing_ up. Lupin had arrived onto the scene, but not before other portraits began to yell and scream and screech. _Yup, definitely going to invade my dreams for the next month..._

Tonks tried to help, apologising as she did, as Mrs. Weasley shut the other portraits up by bellowing "STUPEFY!" and they had fell silent. Then suddenly, a man with long, black and greasy hair came in, and as he did, the portrait screamed louder.

"FILTH! SCUM! ABOMINATION! SHAME OF MY FLESH!"

"Shut - UP!" The man shouted, and he and Lupin successfully managed to close the curtains on her, and the room fell silent once again.

The man turned to Harry, who was surprised. He was here, too?!

"Hello, Harry," he said, his voice tone dismal and gloomy, "I see you've met my mother."

* * *

 _Second chapter has been completed, and I am pleased with it. Edward has also managed to meet the Golden Trio... not off to a good start, however._

 _The reason why Ed is uncomfortable with other people his age is because the only people around his age that he is close with are Alphonse and Winry. When Ed and Al left Resembool, they lost all contact with any other childhood they had in order to reach their goal. Now, Ed is more mature than the Golden Trio, and he's been in near death situations like Harry - except for one thing. As a state alchemist in the military, Ed's treated as an adult, an equal among the soldiers. It's been like that for three years, with minimal contact with people his age, unlike Harry._

 _The story is set early in the Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood/Manga storyline, after Edward gets his broken arm fixed by Winry, but instead of Central, they are summoned to the Eastern HQ, for the mission to Britain._

 _So the plan for updating will now be weekly, or at least fornightly._

 _Constructive criticism and reviews are welcome. Thank you for reading Chapter 2._


	3. Chapter 3

_"Hello there"_ \- Amestrian Speech  
"Hello there" - English Speech

* * *

Roy was brought awake by abnormal shrieks and yelling from below.

His first instinct as a soldier was to get out his Flame Alchemy gloves, arrive at the emergency, and basically solve the problem with the alchemy itself. He glanced at Fullmetal, who had yelled loudly, in surprise, and in Amestrian - _"SHIT!"_ \- as his book fell with a _THUD_ to the floor, and he pulled his glove off his automail arm - everyone knew what was going to happen next. He was going to transform his automail arm into a blade and use it to combat whatever danger he faced.

 _"What's happening?"_ Fullmetal glanced at Roy. _"Why is there so much yelling?"_

 _"I don't know!"_ Roy replied.

 _"Well, THAT'S a lot of help,"_ Edward grumbled. _"Do we go down there or something?"_

Roy felt as if his ears - or maybe his whole entire _head_ \- was going to split clean in half. Then a faint shout, and the shrieks and yells had died down a little. But nevertheless, still loud and powerful. He clapped his hands around his ears, with Edward doing the same. _What the fuck is going on down there?_ Roy thought. _Is this what life in the world of wizards and witches? God damn it!_

Then, after what seemed like forever, it was nothing but silence. Lifting his ears, Roy wondered what _that_ had all been about. Edward had glanced at him, and his face said it all. Confusion. A little anxiety, as well as panic. Who _knew_ what those screams were. But Roy could easily picture the screams in his head. It scared him. Because he thought of the shrieks, the screams, the shrieks as those that belonged to the Ishvalans. During the Civil War. With a single _SNAP,_ whole cities were obliterated. Annihilated. Turned to cinders and dust. All because of _him._

Him, Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist.

He was called the Hero of Ishval. He called himself nothing but a murderer, a ruthless killer who murdered hundreds, if not thousands, of people.

 _"Hey."_ Edward tapped his head twice. _"Are we going down there or not? Colonel Bastard?"_ When Roy had finally lifted his head, Fullmetal smirked at him. _"God, it's like you saw a ghost. You okay there, or something?"_

 _"Shut up, Fullmetal."_ His stood from his bed, and heard his stomach grumble. He glanced at Fullmetal, asking him if it was meal time yet. He hadn't realised that he _was_ hungry until now. His response was a shrug. _"Yeah. I'm not going down with you, though. I've already eaten."_ Noticing Roy's raised eyebrow, he quickly added, _"I ate early."_

It was very easy for Roy to guess the reason for this - mostly to avoid anyone's attention, and meeting the children of his age. It was quite sad, really. He imagined Fullmetal doing this for months, avoiding other people, staying shut up in his room, reading books and writing letters to Alphonse. It was _very_ sad; Roy never expected Fullmetal to be this antisocial around fellow children his age.

 _"You're coming down with me, Fullmetal,"_ Roy ordered the boy in a firm tone. Edward looked up from his book (it was one of alchemy now, not English) and shook his head.

 _"That's an order, Fullmetal,"_ Roy glared at him. _"Besides, there'll be another Order meeting afterwards, and you and I are expected to attend."_

His only response was a long groan, followed by the sound of a book slammed shut, then Edward standing up and placing gloves over both his flesh and automail hands. He stuck one in his pocket, and used the other hand to hold the book under his arm, and he followed Roy out as they made their way to the table, muttering inaudible obscenities in front of a superior officer that received a glare from Roy himself. Edward was extremely stubborn and hard-headed, Roy had to give that. _  
"What's so special about this Order shit, anyways?"_

 _"What makes you think I exactly know?"_ Roy asked back.

 _"I thought all we had to do was be guests at some magic school to help Britain and Amestris be buddies! Not join some revolutionary organisation... what the fuck do they do here anyways, beat up bad guys? Can't we just go back to Amestris?"_ Fullmetal scoffed. Roy only looked back at him, no words as a response. He understood Edward's plight. But his head hurt from his complaining and protests. There was nothing that could be done anymore. They accepted the military mission, they took the train to Creta and made it here, in Britain. And _beat up bad guys..._ Roy had a few presumptions about that statement. Of course, Fullmetal had only said it as a joke. Hell, Roy had the suspicions this Order w _as_ for, in Edward's words, 'beating up bad guys.'

The door closed with a _click._ Damn the military back home for not giving them enough information on this _Order._ Hopefully, during the meeting tonight, they would resolve matters and make this better. There was also 'Lord Voldemort' to think about, having being mentioned in Harry Potter's fact file, written by Albus Dumbledore himself. He hadn't talked too much about the Dark wizard who terrorised the magical community while they had met in the cafe, except that he was after Potter. Roy felt like he should've asked why.

Roy sighed, and he went down the stairs, Fullmetal following not too far behind, throwing his red trench coat to the side.

* * *

The delicious smell of hot food met Ed's nose again as he and Mustang entered the dining room. It was almost tempting Ed to eat again.

Unlike just a while back, where he had ate dinner early, the large, long table was full of seated wizards and witches of numerous age groups. It partially made Ed nervous. Fortunately for him, not many people noticed them - they were either absorbed in their conversations or busy preparing the table with food. He hoped that he and Mustang would simply sit, eat a quick meal, and he would be excused... oh, the meeting. He'd forgotten about that. Damn it.

He was surprised as he was shook out of his thoughts when a man in a black robe walked up towards them. By taking a glance at him, Edward was almost reminded of the Amestrian poor who resided in slum towns. His hair was messy and unkempt, and his robes were a little filthy. His eyes and expression looked tired and weary, despite the man attempting a warm smile. "You two're new here, right?" At Mustang's nod, he held out his hand, which Mustang shook. "Roy Mustang. The boy here - he is Edward Elric."

"Good to meet you, Edward." He held out his hand to Ed too, which surprised him; he shook it with his free hand (thankfully, his flesh hand again), and gave a slight incline of his head. "I'm Sirius Black. Have some food - let's eat."

"Thank you," Roy nodded at the man - Black - and they both took their seats. Despite the number of people seated at the table, there were still quite a few empty seats.

Ed placed his book on the table, opened it, and began to read. He'd read this book on advanced alchemical symbols and transmutation patterns before - but it had proved to be quite the interesting read for him. As he read, however, he felt as if he was being watched. Stared at, maybe. He looked up.

Opposite his place at the table, sat a group of three youths - about Edward's age - one boy, one girl. They stared at him, and Ed stared back - _Shit. They're the ones from earlier._ But what interested him was the boy who had messy, black hair, glasses and - Ed had actually doubted that he even had it up to now - a faint scar on his forehead in the shape of lightning. _Damn... it's Harry Potter. The guy from the military file._ Next to him was the boy in bright red hair - of course Ed remembered him - he made the mistake of calling the Fullmetal Alchemist _short._ Then the talkative girl with bushy hair. She seemed reasonably nice and polite. _So those must be Potter's friends... huh..._ He stopped his staring and resumed reading, well aware they were still looking at him, maybe whispering about him, too.

"Fred - George - NO, CARRY THEM, JUST CARRY THEM!" The shouts of Mrs. Weasley echoed throughout the whole room, and - Ed wanted someone to pinch him, to wake him up from this dream - a large pot of stew, a flagon of liquid that had looked like the substance Dumbledore had given them earlier (it seemed like years since it had happened), and a wooden breadboard, followed by a knife, _flying_ at the speed of light, then - as Mustang stood from the table and pulled Edward back by the collar - the pot skidded like a speeding car on a slippery road (and Ed had seen enough of those) down towards the end of the table, then stopped to a halt (Edward had half-expected a screech, just like a car), leaving a long black burn - like it portrayed the journey of the skidding pot - and some drops of stew and the occasional vegetables and meat.

 _"What the fuck?!"_ Edward whispered under his breath as the flagon crashed on the floor, spilling liquid everywhere, and the knife on the table, almost like an arrow meeting its target, still shaking slightly. Ed had the courage to poke the handle twice, not caring about Mustang and the people close to him watching. To his surprise, the knife pulled itself out of the table and flew towards him.

Ed had plenty of experience of weapons flying towards him before; he simply dodged it by moving to the side, and the knife zipped a straight path until it embedded itself in the wall. _Damn... who knew knives could do that..._

He looked back towards the table, and not only was Potter, redhead and girl staring at him; a pair of twins - who were most likely Fred and George - with the same red hair as redhead, but looked taller and older stared at him. Their attention quickly turned to Mrs. Weasley - who Ed now knew was their mother (and almost certainly redhead's one as well), who screamed at them. Mustang tapped him on the arm, and they both returned to their seats.

"THERE WAS NO NEED TO DO THIS, FOR GOD'S SAKE! JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE OF AGE RIGHT NOW, DOES NOT MEAN YOU CAN USE MAGIC TO COMPLETE EVERY SINGLE LITTLE THING!" To Ed's surprise (he had been surprised quite a few times today), Mrs. Weasley pointed directly at him (which had caused a number of people to turn heads at him, which made Ed uncomfortable), but still looking at the pair of twins, yelled, "YOU COULD HAVE KILLED HIM!"

Something that Ed had disagreed upon: he had touched the knife, and he _himself_ had caused the knife to aim directly at him. Good thing the Fullmetal Alchemist had good reflexes. The twins seemed to agree with Ed's opinion (not that he had spoken up and said it to everyone).

"Hey!" protested one of them. _"He_ touched it - not us! The knife was _just there!"_

"IT COULD'VE STILL HURT ANYONE - IT WOULD'VE BEEN BETTER IF YOU HADN'T BEWITCHED THEM IN THE FIRST PLACE!"

One of the twins began to protest again, justifying his reasons by saying it was to save time - turning and apologising to Black, who had happened to be sitting on the opposite side of the table, next to Potter. Another voice spoke up, and Ed saw that this could've been the husband - or the father, in the twins' perspective, having the same red hair. His voice seemed tired and strained, telling them to "show a sense of responsibility." Ed could relate. After all, Mustang had told him the exact same words time and time again.

 _BAM._ Another flagon identical to the one that had been spilled before was slammed harshly onto the table. "None of your older brothers showed any trouble like this!" She went on to talk about Bill and 'Apparate', whatever that was, Charlie and not having to charm everything he met ('charm' not meaning the kind of charm Mustang displayed when he flirted with some woman). And Percy - Ed never got to hear about this Percy, as she stopped dead to a halt, almost like the pot of stew.

"Let's eat," said another voice, and Ed noticed yet another redhead. _Jeez, how many more redheads are in that family? Huh..._

Ed went back to reading, as silence fell among the table. He felt a tap on his arm. Mustang had prepared a small bowl of stew for him. He shook his head. _"Bastard,"_ he whispered quietly. _"I'm not hungry."_

 _"Just eat, for God's sake,"_ Mustang sighed. _"You're the only one not eating."_

 _"I ate earlier, thanks."_

 _"Eat. That's an order. Or else I'm not taking you to the magic school."_

Ed glared at Mustang, then put the book away and took the spoon and the bowl. As he looked up, he noticed Potter staring at him again. For fuck's sake, what was up with him? He was an ordinary person, eating stew. It was definitely unlikely people here in Britain had heard the name of the Fullmetal Alchemist. Even in Amestris, the only people who knew his name were the people in the eastern area of the country.

Dessert was served, and Ed felt partially thankful he had come down again - the rhubarb crumble was delicious and the custard even more so. He washed it down with what Ed now knew was Butterbeer - exactly the same thing that Dumbledore had given him and Mustang.

"Nearly time for bed, I think," Mrs. Weasley said. Ed felt thankful - the atmosphere was awfully awkward here - even though he was to stay for a meeting, he doubted the children were allowed. He felt uncomfortable with Potter giving him the occasional stare.

"Wait," Black stood up. "Doesn't Harry have any questions? You know, about Voldemort?"

There was that name again - the name mentioned in Potter's fact file - but Ed was a little surprised at people shivering, flinching, or even grimacing when it was spoken. I mean, what was wrong with the name? Voldemort - Edward would've almost laughed.

"I have questions, yeah, I do!" Potter said indignantly. "I asked Ron and Hermione, but they said they're not allowed in the Order, they're not allowed in meetings-"

"They're not allowed," Mrs. Weasley said. "They're too young, and so are you."

A twinge of sympathy couldn't be helped, Ed figured. In the military, during the beginning of his career, people had told him the words "too young" to him - it had greatly annoyed him to the core. Black protested - telling Mrs. Weasley about Harry deserving to have his questions answered, being stuck in some 'Muggle' house for months. "He's got the right-"

"Hey!" a voice rang out in the room. The twins again. "How come _Harry_ gets his questions answered, and not US?!"

"We're your _sons,_ yet you haven't told us any fucking thing!" Mrs. Weasley frowned, and frowned even more as another twin did an angry imitation of his mother telling them they were too young.

"That's you're parents decision, if they don't want you to join," said Sirius calmly. "Harry, on the other hand-"

 _This is going to be a heated fight,_ Edward thought as Mrs. Weasley glared at Black, and they began bickering and arguing. He caught words like "Dumbledore", "not telling Harry more than he needs to know", and they argued over whether Potter could join the Order. Fuck, there were worse things in life than this. _Hopefully, Al's not dealing with shit like this back in Amestris, damn..._

"He's dealt with as much - _more,_ in some cases - as most in this Order," Black said angrily. "He's not a child!"

"He's not an adult, either, Sirius!" Mrs. Weasley yelled. "He's not _James!"_ _Who the fuck is James?_ English names and words spun and Ed's head. It was so fucking annoying. He closed his eyes and tried to memorise the periodic table: _Hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium, boron, carbon..._

He stopped as soon as silence rang out in the room, between both Black and Mrs. Weasley. Then, Mrs. Weasley let out a deep breath and a sigh, and with voice cracking, she said: "Very well," said Mrs. Weasley. "Ginny - Ron - Hermione - Fred - George - out of this kitchen. NOW."

It was a little strange to see that the group of people that had been told to get sent out of the kitchen happened to be people who were about Ed's age, maybe a little younger, a little older. He noticed the redhead friend of Potter glare at him, then a large burst of outrage followed.

"WE'RE OF AGE!" The twins - Fred and George - yelled.

"If Harry's allowed, then how come _I_ can't?!" Redhead (maybe Ron? Ed guessed) protested.

"Mum, why can't I hear? Why?" wailed a small girl - again, with the hair of the Weasleys, and Ed couldn't help but feel as if this was all a little stupid. But he secretly approved of their stubborness, standing up to their mother like that. Mrs. Weasley bellowed a large "NO!", and ordered them to go to bed. No-one listened to her. Her husband looked at her tiredly, and told her of Fred and George were of age - probably to shut the three of them up - and Ed felt relieved when Mrs. Weasley gave in to Fred and George staying. However, the relief was short-lived as redhead Ron continued to protest.

"It's not fair!" he yelled. "Harry's my friend, and..." he gave a sharp but short glance at Edward, then pointed at him. "We met him just earlier, he told us he was fifteen years old! FIFTEEN! WE'RE fifteen, too! And, hell, you didn't tell _him_ to go upstairs to bed!"

 _Damn you, why did you have to bring_ me _into this?_ Ed thought angrily.

"Well, he has a right to stay here," Mrs. Weasley said. "He's part of something important for the Order."

"Wait - _he's_ part of the Order?" Potter looked at him. "And you said _I_ wasn't allowed to join!"

Mustang stood up. "Allow me to speak, please," he said. Thank God, he was probably tired of the bickering and the arguing and the uproar like Ed was. Now all eyes were on him. "Mr... Potter, right? You are Harry Potter?"

He noticed Potter give a slight nod of the head.

"Yes... well... Edward is not part of Order... this _group..._ he is not a member of. I am not a member of it. We are simply following orders from higher... people."

"What do you mean?" Potter's anger looked as if it had dissipated, replaced by mere curiosity instead. "Following orders? Higher people?"

"We'll discuss this during the meeting," Mrs. Weasley said, and Mustang sat back down. Ed glanced at him, hopefully giving him the message: _Way to go, bastard._ "Meanwhile, Ron, Hermione-"

"Harry will tell us everything you say, anyways, so there's really no point, he'll tell us everything!" Ron complained. Then he glanced at Potter. "Right, Harry? You'll tell us everything?"

For a while, there was a pause. Hesitation. Then Harry said, "Of course I will," leaving a happy Ron and Hermione.

Now the last redhead girl - Ginny - Ed expected her to make reasons, justify herself, probably almost as desperate as some life-loving criminal in court, facing death row, pleading not guilty for crime. However, Mrs. Weasley looked at her angrily, saying, "Fine... fine. But Ginny, go - to - bed."

She looked outraged at this, and as Mrs. Weasley escorted her to her bedroom, Ed could hear her stomping up angrily, and some faint angry voices as well, then the slam of a door. After what had seemed like forever, Black looked at Potter and asked him what he would like to know.

Potter had a lot of questions, Ed had found out, and maybe 'being kept in the dark' - being away from all this information could really enrage someone, as well as leave them curious. Ed could relate. Questions about this 'Voldemort', and his current actions, and then the word 'Muggle' again. _Seriously, who the fuck created the word Muggle?_

Ed glanced at Mustang, who was quietly sipping a mug of Butterbeer, that also seemed to have been mixed with water, for some reason. He seemed to be enjoying it, despite his face showing no expression. He kept on staring straight ahead, not even looking at Edward, which made him know that he was listening to every word Black was saying about Voldemort. Ed made a mental list of what he heard:

 _\- Voldemort is hiding, and not giving attention to himself.  
_ _\- His previous return to power was fucked up by Harry Potter himself. Also, Death Eaters sound like they're Voldemort's minions.  
\- Dumbledore is apparently the only person who Voldemort - who other people called "You-Know-Who" or whatever kind of crap - he was afraid of.  
\- The Order, in Black's words, is currently working hard to make sure Voldemort isn't carrying out any plans of his, which were building an army. (Now Ed understood why children couldn't join. Hopefully it meant beating up Voldemort and those Death Eaters.)  
\- Order was also getting more people to join them (in secret, of course)._

One thing that Ed listened to carefully was the subject of Dumbledore. From what Mustang and Dumbledore had told him back in Amestris and Creta, the Ministry of Magic was equivalent to a normal government for magic people. Their leader, Fudge, was afraid of Dumbledore overthrowing him and began all sorts of precautions against him. The return of Voldemort seemed to be all hushed up, despite Dumbledore's (and Potter's) claims that he was definitely back, as well as the fact both of them had been ridiculed and slandered for the past few months in the newspapers. The rumors. All done by the fucking Ministry.

 _"And Cretans think OUR government is corrupt,"_ Ed whispered to Mustang - bastard as he was, Ed was pleased to see that the Flame Alchemist had broke into a smile at his joke.

Even more worse, there was a weapon. Of course a weapon had to be added to the mix. A weapon Voldemort was looking for. A weapon the Order was looking after.

Potter seemed to ask more questions about this particular _weapon._ However, his questions were stopped by Mrs. Weasley, who had told them it was enough and time for bed. Then Mrs. Weasley looked at Ed and said, "Edward, dearest, if you're tired, you can go up to bed with the others. We'll make sure Mustang fills you in on the important bits."

Ed shook his head. "No, Mrs. Weasley. I... how you say it in English... I will stay here for meeting. Very important, is it not?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded, which resulted in some uproar.

"Why does _he_ get to stay, and _we_ have to get to bed?" Ron and Harry protested, despite Hermione telling them not to.

"You haven't answered our questions about them anyways!" Harry said. "You told us you would..."

"Up to bed, all of you, lights off immediately!" Mrs. Weasley yelled.

Mustang cleared his throat, and everyone stopped to look at him. Even Ed. "I think Potter and his friends deserve of their knowing of the plans," he said calmly, sipping Butterbeer from his mug. "Especially since plan involves Hogwarts and Edward here."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked curiously. "But who _are_ you, anyway?"

"We've been asking everyone, sir," Hermione said politely.

Mustang stood up, and looked at everyone, as if he had just become the Fuhrer and was about to make a "thank-you I'm honoured" speech. "You asked me who I am. My name is Roy Mustang, Colonel serving in the State Military of Amestris as a State Alchemist. Here," he placed a hand on Ed's shoulder, "This is Edward Elric. He is also a State Alchemist from Amestris, serving in State Military."

Harry and Ron looked confused at this information that they had just been presented with. Hermione, Fred, and George on the contrary, took little gasps of shock and all exchanged looks with each other. Ed looked at them. _Huh, maybe they_ do _know about Amestris and alchemists... huh..._

"Are you sure they have to know about the plans?" Black said.

"It will do no harm, Mr. Black," Mustang replied coolly, and Ed, however reluctantly, had to admire his nonchalant suave. Black, on the other hand, looked a little surprised, maybe at being called "Mr. Black." Damn Mustang.

"What's the plan?" Potter pressed on. "What do you mean, it involves Hogwarts and him?" Potter glanced at Ed for a second, then moved to Mustang.

"Wait," said Mrs. Weasley. "What do you mean, _Edward serving in State Military? Is he a soldier?"_

Edward wished that Mustang hadn't said that he served in the military. Now, everyone was looking at him... again. He knew what they were thinking, just like he knew what Amestrians were thinking when they had absorbed this information as well: _State Alchemist? At his age? In the military? He's so young! He can't be a soldier..."_

"Hang on," Hermione said. "Amestris is quite far away, isn't it, Mr... Mustang?" Ed noticed that her hand had been up for quite a while, just like the nerds back in elementary, when they knew things far beyond what people in elementary were supposed to know. "It's geographical location is a little to the east of here, right? Close to Asia, but it's in Europe, with the Empire of Xing bordering it to the east, Creta to the west, Drachma to the north, and Aerugo to the south. And the State Military... Amestris is under a military government, where the highest officers of the State Military make the decisions for the people and country."

Mustang looked at Hermione. "You are very smart girl."

This made Hermione beam. Edward looked at her. _Damn... Mustang's never said that to me before... fuck him._ "Well, I've read some books about Amestris. It's a quite interesting place. I'd like to go."

Fred nodded, and the wizards looked surprised. "Yeah, we know our fair share too. 'parently, they don't entirely use magic there. The power of alchemy is used. It's kinda cool."

"Yeah, cooler than magic in some aspects," the other twin, George, agreed.

"But isn't alchemy just turning lead into gold and all that?" Potter asked. "The Philosopher's Stone, remember?"

Ed froze. The Philosopher's Stone? The _Stone_ was _here?_ He was definitely going to question Potter about that.

"Well..." another man began. He looked at Potter, then at the two alchemists. "That kind of alchemy was the result of wizard trying to mix magic and alchemy and fashion it in their own way. As you know, it failed. Alchemy is, I believe, about channelling the earth's energy. It's more of science than magic, really." (Ed was thankful that he had acknowledged this. It pissed Ed off when people asked him if the transmutations he had performed were magic.) "Unlike the wizarding community, you don't have to be born an alchemist - anyone can learn. Basically, alchemy is a science of changing one object into another, under very strict laws." He sighed. "Me and my friends... back in our youth, we always wanted to visit Amestris. Maybe even learn some alchemy, too." He glanced at Black, who nodded.

Ed was surprised to find that they knew quite a bit about his country and alchemy, especially when Ed had known almost _nothing_ about Britain and magic, only the fact that Amestris and Britain did not have a good relationship with each other (but Ed remembered that as far as he knew, Amestris didn't have a good relationship with almost _every_ country out there). He noticed Hermione taking notes down with a quill and parchment. It surprised him. _Who uses quills anymore?_ Ed was also happy they had moved away with the topic of being a soldier or a State Alchemist in the Military. As far as this conversation would get, at this rate, they would be spending the whole night talking about Amestris and alchemical laws.

"OK," Harry nodded. "I get it. Amestris is a country where they use alchemy. You two -" he gestured to Ed and Mustang - "are... State Alchemists in the military. But what has this got to do with me and Hogwarts? What plan were you talking about?"

"Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, "the plan involves improving the relations between our two countries. One part of the plan is to send Edward as a student, and Mr. Mustang as a new staff member."

"For Defence Against the Dark Arts?" Ron asked. "Is he going to teach us alchemy there?"

"The real reason is why you two were sent here, though," Hermione piped up. "Improving the relations between our two countries... that can't be the real reason, can it? Especially when the Order is involved."

Damn wizards. They were too nosy.

"You are very intelligent as well," Mustang said quietly. "However, most of the reasons is classified. Between my country. Between Ministry. Between Order. Not even Edward knows all of it."

"That is fucking depressing," Ed said, then clapped a hand at his mouth. _Fuck._ He just had to say his thoughts out loud. In English. With a swear word. (How he'd learned that English swear word... Havoc had something to do with it, he remembered.) Fred, George and Ron looked at him and grinned. Mustang looked at him, and raised an eyebrow, and gave a sly smile at him, the jerk.

"Ministry?" Fred asked. That was also on Ed's mind. "If the Ministry is slandering Harry and Dumbledore all over, why is the Ministry involved? Is it like a cover-up, or a base, or something-"

"I think that's _enough_ for you to know," Mrs. Weasley stopped Fred from finishing his question, and Mustang from replying. "I think you all have to get to bed." The group, thankfully, did not protest against this, and headed for the stairs.

Ed suddenly stood up. "I would like to go too," he said. He had to catch up with them before they went to sleep. His curiosity burned with the wanting of his questions to be answered. "I... am sleepy."

Mustang looked at him. Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Maybe... yes, I think that's what you should do. Mr. Mustang, please stay. Well, goodnight Edward. Have a good sleep."

The Flame Alchemist nodded, then said to him in Amestrian, _"Don't worry. I'll fill you in on what you need to know."_

Ed nodded, and he tucked his chair in and ran up towards the stairs.

* * *

 _Crack._

"OW! FRED, GEORGE!" Ron yelped. "You're on my knees!"

"Shhh, little bro," George put a finger to his lips. "We wouldn't want Mum to find out you all are still awake."

They talked a little over the weapon Sirius mentioned in the dark, then Harry brought up the subject of the Amestrians. "What do you think of them?"

Fred tapped his chin. "They seemed like good blokes," he replied. "But I dunno... the fact that the Ministry could be involved bothers me quite a fucking lot."

"They're representatives of their military," Harry said. "So I guess we should've seen that coming."

"Still, you can't help but wonder, mate," Ron pondered. "And if that Edward Elric bloke is going to Hogwarts, how's he going to cope? I mean, if he only knows alchemy... there's _no way_ he can learn five years' worth of work in just a couple o' weeks."

"That Mustang guy is going as well, isn't he?" George asked. "He's going to be some staff, but who _knows_ what he's going to teach. He didn't answer the question that we asked earlier. Maybe he _is_ going to learn alchemy-"

"Quiet," Harry hissed. They could hear faint footsteps going up the stairs, and with the twins' eyes widening and whispering of the word "Mum", they disappeared with a _crack_ and Ron and Harry were left alone. They both climbed into their beds, both hoping Mrs. Weasley would pass.

The door opened, and Ron covered their heads under his blanket, and Harry squinted his eyes just enough to look like he was asleep, but enough to let him see. To his surprise, it wasn't Mrs. Weasley at all. The figure was much smaller and skinnier. His eyes almost shone in the dark. "Potter," he said quietly.

Harry turned on the lamp by his bedside and stared. "Elric? It's Elric... right?"

Ron looked up from the blankets. "What...?" He looked at Elric and turned on his lamp as well. "What do you want?"

"Well," Elric sighed, then looked at them. "I need you... tell me something."

"Can't it wait in the morning?" Ron raised an eyebrow at him. "Mum's going to kill us-"

"No," he said. "No wait."

Harry looked up at him. "What do you want us to tell you?"

"Tell me..." His golden eyes stared at them like fire. Burning with determination. "Tell me about the Philosopher's Stone."

* * *

 _Thank you for reading Chapter 3._

 _One guest has asked me if I have read buffpidgey's story, as he says this is a little similar to it. My response would be no, I haven't read it, and I don't entirely plan to - I'm more focused on writing fanfiction than reading it, oops... but if it does look very similar in the future, I will edit the story. I already have a crap-ton of ideas for the future chapters..._

 _Oh, and the man that was talking about Amestris was Lupin. If you guessed it already, kudos to you, then. I also said I plan to update weekly or fortnightly, but I guess I'm breaking the rule - it's just that this is the last day of the school holidays for me and I just want to get this chapter off my chest and make way for the next one._


	4. Chapter 4

_"Hello there"_ \- Amestrian Speech  
"Hello there" - English Speech

* * *

"Tell me about the Philosopher's Stone."

Harry stared in disbelief at Elric, then glanced at Ron, who looked as equally uneasy. His green eyes locked with Elric's golden ones, and he knew he meant business.

"You had mention Philosopher's Stone back at meeting," Elric said, his voice trembling. He seemed nervous. A little scared. But also excited. "You said, 'the Philosopher's Stone'. I remember. Tell me about the Philosopher's Stone."

Ron stared at him. "Mate, it's late at night, and you just come running and demand us to tell you about the Philosopher's Stone?"

Elric stared back at Ron, speaking so quiet that the two wizards could barely hear him: "I need to know."

Harry adjusted his glasses. "Look, Elric, _why_ do you want to know about the Philosopher's Stone? It doesn't matter anymore. It turned anything into the gold and produced an Elixir of Life which granted immortality to the drinker."

He saw Elric mutter softly in another language, then clear his throat and say, "It doesn't work like that."

"What doesn't work like that?" asked Harry.

"The Philosopher's Stone."

"What the _hell_ do you mean, Elric?" Ron looked at him. "You're talking nonsense."

"I am _not!"_ Elric glared at Ron and Ron glared back at him, then Harry spoke up: "There's no point telling you about the Philosopher's Stone anymore. It was destroyed back in our first year at Hogwarts. Uh, three or four years back."

Elric had stopped glaring at Ron, and said: "Are there any more?"

"Uh, no."

"Do you know how to make Philosopher Stones? Do you know someone?" Elric sounded excited.

"Someone?"

"Someone who knows how to make these Stones?"

"Well... no. Sorry, Elric."

He looked so downfallen that Harry almost felt sorry for him. _Almost._

"Well... goodbye." He turned and walked out the door, without closing it.

Harry and Ron looked at each other. "Well, that was weird," Harry said.

"I don't he likes us either."

"More you than me."

* * *

"So he just took off?"

Hermione had wished that she had been there to witness it. Harry and Ron had just told her of what had happened last night - Edward had demanded information on the Philosopher's Stone. When finding that the Stone had been destroyed and there was no trace of another, he had strangely took off. It left Hermione curious, with many questions. She wished she's been there - all she was doing at that time was telling Ginny of the happenings that occurred and the words that had been said after she was sent to bed.

"But _why?_ _"_ she wondered aloud as she placed a sausage on her plate. "Why would he want the Philosopher's Stone all of a sudden? And _how_ would he know about it in the first place?"

"Well..." Harry tapped his plate with his fork. "If I remember correctly, back in our first year at Hogwarts... you showed us a book..."

"Whatsh dat godda do wid anydid?" Ron asked, with food in his mouth. Hermione grimaced in disgust, and gave him a kick in the shin. Muttering some filthy swear words, he swallowed and said, "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Well, I know it mentioned the word _alchemy_ in it," Harry said. "And I remember quite a long time ago, from elementary school. We were learning about medieval England. The teacher mentioned that the people believed in devil-worshipping witches and alchemy. A Stone that could make anything to gold. An Elixir of Life that made you immortal, as long as you could drink it. That Mustang guy said that he and Elric were alchemists in the military."

"Well, there you go," Hermione clapped. The pieces of the puzzle were easy to solve. She understood. "Well... there are two solutions to this. Either this is something for his military, maybe the military want the Stone, but... the other option is that he wants it for himself. But... the former is more likely than the latter."

One thing they had noticed during breakfast was that Edward and Mr. Mustang had not been present during the mealtime. The trio went up and asked Mrs. Weasley for their whereabouts, and the only response that met them was that she didn't know, as well as being asked to help clean up the house and rid it of Doxys and whatnot. Sure enough, she had handed them a mixture of Doxycide to help kill them, as well as pairs of gloves and masks.

"Make sure you check the corners, too!" Mrs Weasley called as they departed.

When Mrs. Weasley was out of earshot, Ron shook his head as he pulled on the gloves and the mask. "Jeez, it's the holidays and they expect us to do work? What are we, house-elves? Kreacher can do this, why can't he bother? Lazy-ass."

Hermione glared at him. "Then _maybe_ you understand how horrible the elves are suffering! And _don't you dare_ call them what you just called them. If you joined S.P.E.W-"

"What the heck, no!" Ron grunted, and the three of them went back to cleaning in silence, then Harry brought up the subject of Amestris, Edward and the Philosopher's Stone back up again. "You know, Hermione, what you said at breakfast this morning, you may not be that far off."

"What do you mean?" she asked, as a Doxy squeaked and fell dead. Hermione winced. It was almost like killing a Fairy. Doxys looked a lot like them.

"Well... the Philosopher's Stone is known throughout alchemists, right?" Harry said. "And these... _State Alchemists_ work for the military, right? So it's very likely that yes, they are definitely searching for the Philosopher's Stone for the military."

"Harry..."

"Well? Don't you remember what that Mustang man said? He said, 'most of the reasons is classified.' Maybe this is what they want! They're here for the Philosopher's Stone, they want to get it for some reason! And who wouldn't, because the Stone is special, it can turn anything to gold and make you filthy rich, it can make you live forever - isn't that what most humans want? Riches and immortality?"

"Yeah!" Ron agreed. "You-Know-Who wanted something like that, right? So why not some government from some far-away land? Elric went up to us just like this-" he clicked his fingers with a _snap_ \- "and asked us for information about the Stone. When we told him it had been destroyed, he asked us if he knew how to make it. Or at least someone who knew about it. We told him _no."_

"Yes," said Hermione, "but I've been giving my statement at breakfast quite a good think for a while. Mr. Mustang _did_ say that 'most of the reasons were classified'. But what he _also_ said was that the reasons were classified between his country, the Ministry and the Order. I can believe the Ministry might wanting a part of this, it's a weapon they could use against Dumbledore and his supporters, but... the Order? I don't think so. The Philosopher's Stone is quite a common subject in alchemy. They wouldn't be bringing in top alchemists if the Order knew that they were going to look for the Stone. Besides, I did some research, and I know that the only Philosopher's Stone was created and owned by Nicolas Flamel. He kept it by his side for a long time, up until our first year. Then it was destroyed by Dumbledore. So... even if the Philosopher's Stone _was_ wanted by Mr. Mustang and Edward, they wouldn't even be able to get it. Besides, Harry, _you're_ involved, Hogwarts is involved with this, the Order is involved... I don't know where this is going, but I think I'm almost sure it's got nothing to do with the Philosopher's Stone."

Harry and Ron stared at her. "Wow," breathed Ron. "You didn't have to make a huge speech on it. But I guess that Mustang's right in saying-" he began an imitation of his deep, firm voice: "You are very smart girl."

Ron was met with a punch to the arm. "OW! Okay, Hermione, I'm sorry, okay? Don't hit me again!"

They heard a hearty laugh, and the three of them turned to see Sirius walking towards them.

Harry smiled at seeing his godfather. "Hi, Sirius," he grinned.

"Hello there, Harry," he said, "and you two, Ron, Hermione." He placed a can of Doxycide spray down on the table. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation on Mr. Edward Elric and Mr. Roy Mustang."

Hermione noticed Harry widen his eyes. "Well... what do you think, Sirius?"

He laughed. "Well... I'm not sure. But Hermione here, she sure does present some pretty damn points. As for Edward... I know he wasn't present at breakfast today, but I saw him this morning."

"Really? Where?" Hermione asked curiously. "We'd like to talk to him."

"He asked me something about sending a letter. He asked for something... a _post office?"_ Sirius wrinkled his nose, as if he had never said the two words before.

"It's a Muggle thing," Hermione briefly explained when Ron and Sirius looked at her, their eyes asking for the definition of 'post office.' "It's the Muggle way of sending letters to other people - they don't use owls. They have vehicles and planes and postmen come and deliver the mail from one place to another."

"Blimey!" Ron exclaimed. "That's _weird!_ Why do all that when you have owls to take your mail instead? It's easier."

Hermione glared at him again, and he dropped the subject. They both looked at Sirius and said, "Continue."

"Well... as I was saying, I said that it wouldn't be possible for him to send it with... a post office. I told him that the wizard way to send mail was through an owl. I think I nearly gave him a heart attack at the word _owl,"_ Sirius added, chuckling softly.

"Who was he sending it to?" asked Harry. "Maybe a military soldier from Amestris-"

"Not really," Sirius shook his head. "The recipient of Edward's letter is in Amestris, but he's not a military soldier." Ron began to open his mouth, but Sirius lifted his hand to stop him. "Not anyone suspicious. Just his little brother."

"His _brother?!"_ The three were surprised. Hermione was surprised too, but she was surprised at herself as well for being shocked at the fact that Edward Elric had a younger brother. Edward was the kind of person who struck Hermione as someone who was easily angered and alone. It was a little surprising.

Sirius shrugged. "Welp, that's what he said. I asked him who he was writing to, and he said, 'My little brother. He is lonely when he is not with me.' That's all. I loaned him one of the Order's spare owls, helped him tie the letter to the bird's leg and he then he left."

"Hadn't he eaten breakfast?" Hermione looked alarmed.

"I forgot to ask him that, he's probably shut up in his bedroom with his friend Mustang right now," Sirius replied. "Well..." he strolled across the room until he came across an old, faded tapestry hung on the wall. The three followed him, and noticed a large family tree. Hermione was surprised to see that it was very large, it had dated up to centuries ago. Hermione breathed softly as the three of them read the inscription at the top of the tapestry: _THE NOBLE AND MOST ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK: TOUJOURS PUR._

"Toujours Pur?" Hermione wondered aloud.

"It's French," Sirius replied, with obviously noticeable distaste in his tone of voice. "It means 'Always Pure.'"

"Hey, wait," Harry glanced around the tapestry. "You're not on here!"

Sirius smiled sadly, and he went on to explain how he had been blasted off from the tapestry, disowned from the Blacks when he had run away. He talked about his loathing for his family and their pure-blooded beliefs, and his own younger brother, Regulus Black, who had shocked Hermione when Sirius had told the three of them he had been a previous Death Eater up until his death. They continued to talk about this, Harry and Sirius mostly participating in the discussion, Ron and Hermione simply and patiently listening and paying attention, until Mrs. Weasley had called them to lunch.

"Let's go," Ron said, licking his lips.

"Sure," said Hermione, and they both dug into the delicious meal of sandwiches and cake.

* * *

 _"You should go down and talk to them."_

 _"Hell no! Why would I want to talk to them?"_

Mustang was reading through his papers from the folders from the military, while at the same time having a heated discussion with Edward. Well, a _half-_ heated discussion. Mustang was calm - in fact, was he even paying full attention to Edward? It made him annoyed. What even made him _more_ irritated - Mustang attempting to get Ed to go down and talk with Potter and his friends.

Ed refused. Besides... he had no intention to talk to them, especially after he had ran up to catch up with them to demand information on the Philosopher's Stone. He hadn't got anything out of them. _There's no point telling you about the Philosopher's Stone. It was destroyed back in our first year at Hogwarts. Three or four years ago._ Why did Ed have the feeling that Potter and his friends could have been involved in it. _Damn._

And turn anything to gold? _Oh, please._ Ed knew fully well that was not how the Philosopher's Stone entirely worked. Yes, just like the fraud priest who had began a religious cult in Liore with a Philosopher's Stone, they could bypass the simplest laws of alchemy and turn anything into gold - not just gold, but basically anything, if you had even a small portion of the Stone.

Potter had mentioned the _Elixir of Life,_ hadn't he? Damn, that was stupid. A Philosopher's Stone did _not_ produce any liquid that provided longevity or immortality to the drinker. Alchemy could not delay death. Maybe, just _maybe,_ raise someone from the dead, as many had suspected Edward and Alphonse of wanting the Stone for human transmutation if they had learned of their sin - but alchemy could not delay someone from dying. Yes, it could heal someone on the verge of death. But it could and would not provide immortality... could it?

 _That's not a Philosopher's Stone, stupid,_ Ed mentally chastised himself. _It doesn't sound like one. It's probably some cheap magic peoples' version. That's not the real Philosopher's Stone... the blood-red stone that brought joy in despair, victory in war and life in death. It doesn't sound like the true Philosopher's Stone - hell, it doesn't even sound like the Stone from that phoney Cornello had._

 _"Fullmetal?"_ Mustang called. _"You've gone awfully quiet. Are you trying to think of some argument?"_ He laughed, then said one word in English. It was not entirely a word Edward had heard before, but it angered him nonetheless. It sounded a lot like a word he had read in a book: "Midget." _  
_

 _Midget:_ _a very small person or thing._

 _"HEY!"_ Ed yelled angrily, and leapt up at Mustang with a fist, which the Flame Alchemist easily dodged by moving to the side. _"I'M NOT SHORT! NOT A MIDGET THAT EVEN SOME MICROBE COULD TOWER OVER ME! I'M NOT SO FUCKING SMALL THAT A LADYBUG CAN USE ME FOR AIR SUPPORT! I-"_

 _"Shut up, Fullmetal,"_ Mustang sighed, and Ed, grunting in irritation, sighed, said: "Fine", then crawled back to his bed. _I can't believe I have to sleep with this guy while we're staying here... I hope we get separate sleeping accommodations at the magic school..._ then suddenly, thoughts filled his head. Thoughts about what had been said the night before...

 _"Hey, Colonel,"_ Ed called out. _"Colonel Bastard."_

He looked up from reading. _"What?"_

 _"At this Hogwarts magic school place... they said something about me going to be a student. And you... you're going to be some... staff? Wait, doesn't that make you a teacher?"_

Mustang shrugged. _"I guess-"_

 _"What the fuck are you going to teach there, anyways? How to seduce women and take them out for a date?"_

 _"Shut up, Fullmetal."_

 _"Ah, but you_ are _going to teach there, aren't you?"_ Edward smirked. _"What subject, though? I'm genuinely curious."_

Mustang sighed. _"I'm not allowed to tell."_

 _"Well, that's depressing."_

 _"I'll tell you what's not,"_ Mustang grinned at Edward. _"Since I'll be at Hogwarts as a staff member... I'll be leaving early, a week before September 1st, because Dumbledore's asked me to, so you'll be on your own for the last week of the holidays. For a week I'll be gone from the most annoying pipsqueak in the world."_

 _"I'll be gone from the most annoying bastard ever,"_ Ed gave a sly smile back. That would be fun to think about. It had only been two days since they had arrived, and Ed had been greatly annoyed with how he had been staying with the bastard himself. In the same room. It made him happy to think that he didn't have to stay with Mustang for the last week of the holidays. It was a refreshing thought.

Mustang smiled as he read over the papers, then frowned. _"Fullmetal, come here."_ He waved towards his bed. _"I need to show you this."_

* * *

Harry was walking up the stairs when he noticed Fred and George. They whispered softly to each other, Harry not being able to hear them properly until he got closer:

"-have to be fucking quiet, or else they'll hear us-"

"Don't worry, dear brother, I have this covered-"

Harry finished ascending the stairs, making a low little _creak_ as he did. As soon as that one little sound was made, the twins turned towards him and furiously placed index fingers on their lips. "Hey, Harry," whispered George. As Harry opened his mouth to speak, Fred mouthed: _Be quiet._ He held up the Extendable Ear, and turned themselves back towards the door.

"What are you _doing?!"_ hissed Harry. He tiptoed closer to them, and realised in surprise that they had been eavesdropping. But he knew that already. It was _who_ they were eavesdropping on...

"Why the hell are you eavesdropping on Elric and Mustang?"

"Well..." Fred's voice trailed off, then after taking a breath: "It's only our first time doing it. Successfully, I mean. First time we tried, this morning, but all we could hear was both of them talking in a weird language."

"Of course, he's bound to speak-" George waved him down, saying: "So we tricked Lupin into giving us this particularly tricky translator charm. It works a treat. However, it doesn't last long, it's bound to expire any time now..."

"You haven't answered my question. _Why?"_

"Well, don't you know? Are you the only one who's been thinking about these _alchemists?_ How odd they seem?" Fred looked at him.

"We're _very_ curious about the plans about sending Elric to Hogwarts," said George. "We want answers." He held up the Extendable Ear. "You want to have a listen? It hasn't been that much, and the translator charm's wearing off quickly, but I think you can still hear them talk for a minute more or two. Besides," he shrugged indifferently, "not much important or interesting stuff has happened. Just have a go."

Harry nodded, and took the Ear. He held it up, and heard the words of Edward Elric and Roy Mustang, translated into English. It seemed strange that they were talking in fluency (almost forgetting that this was through a translation), and he widened his eyes as he heard the two alchemists talk from the other side of the door:

 _"No way! I'm not going to Hogwarts!"_

 _"Fullmetal,"_ Harry heard Mustang's voice loud and clear, _"you have to. You agreed to this."_

 _"Fuck no!"_ (Harry had to wonder whether swearing was the norm for Elric.) _"I'm not going! I don't care about the resources anymore! I want to go back to Amestris!"_

 _"This is part of the mission. Being a bodyguard."_

"Bodyguard?" Fred muttered curiously. He gave a sneaky smirk. "Now what the hell does _that_ mean?"

 _"-knew this job was coming, Fullmetal, you think I want to do it, too? When I could be back at my office in East City?"_

Harry, Fred and George heard a heavy sigh, and some swear words Mrs. Weasley would _not_ have definitely approved of. _"Fine,"_ Elric said. _"So, run through that again. I know I'm going to hate this job, but I'll do it."_

 _"That's the spirit, Fullmetal,"_ Mustang said, both wearily and with sarcasm. _"Well-"_ there was the sound of paper flicking - _"the Fuhrer requires us both to act as a diplomatic party of two to improve our countries' relations. This involves you, Fullmetal, to attend Hogwarts School as an exchange student to learn about the wizards' culture, and myself as a staff member of Hogwarts for the duration of the school year, from now - around the end of August, to around... the end of June next year. That's ten months. At least, that's what this Ministry for the wizards and witches knows. But both the Order and Dumbledore have requested something of you during your time as a student there, Fullmetal."_

 _"It's going to be a hell of a job, I know that."_

 _"Yup. Your job, I'll repeat, will involve you becoming a bodyguard for Harry Potter during his time at Hogwarts."_

Harry stared at the Weasley twins. _The Order... and Dumbledore... want Elric... to... bodyguard me?!_ He leaned in to listen more.

 _"I don't see why we have to look after Harry Potter. He seems like the kind of guy who can handle things himself. Besides, damn, he's got his friends, Ron and Hermione and whatever. He has the whole Order at his side. He has Dumbledore standing with him, for God's sake! Why would we have to bodyguard him?"_

 _"Not we, Fullmetal. YOU. Your age and the reason why you're there is the perfect cover to guard him."_

 _"What do I do?"_

 _"Well... it says here, in Dumbledore's letter to the Fuhrer-President, that you have to keep a close watch on him, keep him out of trouble, especially when this_ Lord Voldemort _has returned."_

 _"That's not going to be fun, methinks,"_ Ed said spitefully.

 _"Quite right,"_ Mustang agreed.

 _"Well, what do you think? Wizards are fucked up!"_

 _"You shouldn't say that, Fullmetal, especially when we're residing in a house full of them,"_ Mustang replied coldly.

 _"Well..."_ he said angrily. There were a few noises not able to be translated by the charm, and the sound of a book being dropped on the floor. _"See that? I got this from the bookroom."_

 _"Fullmetal, you took it without permission-"_

 _"I didn't, Sirius Black said I could! Anyway, you know what THIS book is?'_

 _"Well, you can read, Fullmetal. 'Magical Theory on the Mind, Body and Soul.'"_

 _"It's full of what you'd call black magic,"_ Edward growled. _"It's trash. It's full of so much bullshit. What they say about the mind, body and soul is wrong."_ There was a short pause, then: _"Raising the dead? They say raising the dead can work in this book! It doesn't say much about the topic, but human transmutation is illegal. It's illegal for a reason."_

 _"You should know that, Fullmetal,"_ Harry listened carefully, for Mustang was now talking in a soft tone, _"you should know that. Anyways, you shouldn't be dabbling with books like these anyway. Focus on the real reason why we are both here. The bodyguarding mission with Harry Potter-"_

 _"I know! But as far as I know, I don't start until September. I don't have to do anything until then."_

 _"Well, that's true, but you better sharpen up and have a better attitude for Hogwarts. And don't dabble in magical books like these. That's an order."_

A very long pause compared to the one before, then a soft sigh: _"Fine. Potter doesn't know, does he?"_

 _"He doesn't. Besides, there's a hearing coming up in a day or two. Apparently, Potter's been charged of using magic outside school areas, being underage. He's being called to court."_

 _"Hmm... so maybe we can go home early, then,"_ Edward decided.

 _"Don't be like that, Fullmetal. Now, discussing the bodyguard mission, we-"_ The English switched back to Amestrian. The charm's duration was over.

But Harry didn't care. As he, Fred and George lowered the Extendable Ear, they couldn't help looking at each other, not being able to fully understand and cope with what they had said.

* * *

Dinner seemed to be a quiet affair, Roy seemed to think. _Maybe TOO quiet._

Edward was seated next to him. Roy had managed, after a heated argument, to not bring down books to the table for the sake of good manners and etiquette (which Roy doubted that the Fullmetal Alchemist even _had),_ and he was silently helping himself to dinner, at a speed definitely too fast for someone his age. After what seemed like a simple few seconds, Ed had reached out for another serving.

Who knew, who _knew,_ that the Fullmetal Alchemist loved to eat.

A few of the younger wizards and witches had been watching them - Potter, the redhead Weasley boy and the bushy-haired girl - but whenever Roy had tried to catch their eye, they quickly turned away. The bushy-haired girl - the _smart_ one who knew quite a bit about Amestris was staring - not rudely, but _thoughtfully_ \- at Fullmetal, as if she wanted something from him and was contemplating on when to ask him, and what his response would be. They whispered among each other a lot throughout the meals, Roy seemed to notice, and this had made him a little suspicious.

"So, Mr. Mustang," he turned, and noticed a member of the Order, Remus Lupin, turning to him, "what do you think your plans will be for the next school year will be as a member of the staff? I was one once too, you know."

Mustang sighed, and he heard Edward's chair being tucked in behind him. He looked at Lupin, took a deep breath and began to talk.

* * *

Ed had never been one to interact with others.

That was why he had finished two servings of dinner as quickly as possible, then headed upstairs.

It was a little bit of a shame that he was going to miss dessert tonight - Mrs. Weasley had promised a large custard cake to be made for all of them to enjoy. But Ed mentally declined, however delicious the cake was going to be. The stares from Potter, Weasley and Granger had made him definitely uncomfortable, as well as the whispering and mutters that Ed was almost sure were about him. Of _course_ they were going to think he was some little oddball, working in the military, being an alchemist and whatnot. It was something that Ed never bothered to think about. It had happened a lot of times in Amestris - _the little Fullmetal oddball and his younger big brother who loved to wear armour._

He retreated to the bedroom, and made an angry noise at the book on his bed. 'Magical Theory on the Body, Mind and Soul.' All the magic he had read about defied every single law of alchemy there was. It talked about taboos as if they were pieces of cake. It contradicted what Ed and his brother had been taught by their Teacher. Worse, it talked about how magic was the only power that could raise humans from the dead. It enraged him as he had continued to read through the book.

Yes, wizards were _definitely_ fucked up.

He picked up the book and threw it against the wall, swearing and muttering the worst curses he could think of. It hit the wall with a loud _bam_ before landing on the floor open with a _thud._ He didn't care whether anyone downstairs heard. He didn't care if Potter heard. He didn't care. Retreating to his bed, he sighed and stared out the window. The owl that he had used that morning was on its way to Alphonse. It was hell waiting. _I wish I could go back to Amestris... I wish I could go back to Al... Damn..._

 _Knock, knock, knock._ Three times. The door was knocked on lightly, and Ed suddenly sat up on instinct. Just like back in Amestris, he expected a military soldier, maybe Mustang, to come through the door. But he wasn't in Amestris. And Mustang wouldn't have knocked on the door to his own bedroom. _It's a magic person... no... go away, I don't want to talk to you. Go away. Go away..._

It was the female tag-a-long of Potter's. Granger. _Hermione Granger,_ Ed guessed. He may not have liked Potter, and despite disliking Weasley a little, he felt a soft spot for Granger. She was the only one who had been reasonably polite to him. She wasn't as nosy as the other wizards - Ed hated nosy people, they had no right to know about his personal privacy and business - and she tended to stay away from him as much as she could. Which made Ed satisfied. He didn't like being around people, much less wizards, despite living in the same residence as them. She took a deep breath, looking a little nervous, then she spoke. "I heard something here. It was loud. Is something wrong?"

Ed stared. No-one had ever asked him, _Is something wrong?_ It was a little strange, as the words entered Ed's ears, and not because of the language not being his mother tongue. He shook his head. "No, am fine. Thank you." _Now, please go away, if that's the only thing you want._

But Ed expected that she had more reason to visit him than ask him whether if he was alright or not.

"Well," Hermione took a deep breath again, "I have to ask you something. It's about your alchemy." She walked over and picked up 'Magical Theory of the Body, Mind and Soul,' studying the title carefully. "You got this from the Blacks, right?"

"From bookroom," he replied quietly. "I asked." The last part had been a lie - he _hadn't_ bothered to ask Sirius for access into the bookroom, or permission to touch the books, but he was sure he had seen Black pass him in the the bookroom, not saying nothing. To Ed, he thought this meant that Sirius had approved - maybe grudgingly, maybe willingly, but still allowed and approved of it.

"Well..." she sighed. "Be careful. Sirius' family has a bunch of objects that could be cursed. Books included."

"Not cursed," Ed said simply, and raised his two gloved hands up, as if in surrender. "Fine. I am fine. No curse. I no think it does." _Will you go away... please?_ Ed thought desperately in his mind.

"Well, I have a question to ask you," she smiled, and she sat down next to Edward on the bed. Reluctantly, he moved to the right to make space. He hoped silently that after Hermione had asked the question, she would leave Ed alone.

"Could you... tell me a little about alchemy? Please?"

Ed stared at her. Hermione, a wizard (or witch, that was what you called the magic women)... want to know about _alchemy?_

Wizards were _definitely_ nosy.

"Why... why you want to know about alchemy?" he asked.

"I've been a little interested in it since you came," she replied. "Well... even more since you talked a little about it yesterday. I've been asking some of the Order members for books on alchemy, but there isn't much. I'd like to check inside Hogwarts' library, but of course, we won't be going back there until September 1st." She sighed. "I was wondering if... well... you could teach me a little? Or at least tell me about the basic laws and principles. I could also help you a bit with the magic we've learnt at Hogwarts."

Her words rang like a bell in Edward's head. _Teach her alchemy? Tell her about the basic laws?_

Most of her wanted to say no. Why the fuck did he have the obligation to, anyways? Shit, he remembered himself and his brother having to beg their Teacher, having to survive a whole month on a dangerous island simply to train themselves and learn about "One Is All, All Is One" principle, which would finally let their Teacher take the pair of brothers under her wing. And simply teaching her about alchemy - why? Edward knew very little about how magic worked, but however easy or hard it took to master "spells", alchemy was no doubt harder. Learning how to channel the earth's energy freely and properly, making sure your physical, mental and spiritual selves were up to the task of performing it (at least, that was how Teacher had put it), and learning about the certain laws that regarded and policed alchemy. It was not as 'free' as magic was, Edward had noticed over the two days he and Mustang had stayed so far.

He came to a decision.

"Well," he grabbed a piece of parchment from the drawer, and his best fountain pen, and wrote, in sloppy but readable English: ALCHEMY, then underlining it. "Like what you hear last time, alchemy is science. Not magic. Science. Well..." he began to write some words down: "Understanding of matter. De... Decon... Deconstruction of matter. Re... reconstruction of matter into something else. Power comes from earth. Earth energy thing. Circle helps. I think that is good English for explaining."

He wrote and underlined the word: LOWS. Hermione watched, then corrected Edward on the spelling. _Shit._ He couldn't help but feel embarrassed as he crossed it out and wrote the correct spelling again. "Law of Equivalent Exchange. Very important. Number One law in alchemy. No person can learn alchemy without learning law." He sighed, and repeated what his Teacher had told him: _"In order to obtain or create something, something of equal value must be lost or destroyed."_ Noticing Hermione's strange expression, he silently cursed, realising he had been speaking Amestrian.

"To create, something equal to it must be lost." _Hopefully, that's what it means in English..._

"So," Hermione tapped the parchment. "The Law of Equivalent Exchange. So... if I make something..."

"For example, make from something made mostly of water. I cannot make... wool from sheep. Brings us to the Law of Mass Conservation. No... no..." he struggled to translate. He quickly grabbed his English-Amestrian dictionary, then said, "No energy or matter can be made from nothing. Not like how your magic works. Cannot make something out of thin air. For example..." Ed felt stupid as he made hand gestures. "Make something one kilogram. One kilogram of things to make it is necessary."

Hermione nodded. "I understand... but isn't there another law? Isn't Equivalent Exchange broken into two parts? Two sub-laws? I asked Lupin, and that's what he told me."

 _Jeez, so wizards do know more than what they look. Damn it._ "Well, another law. Law of Natural... I don't know word for English. It translates to 'god', but I do not think that is word. What is another word for god that matches Law of Natural...?"

"Well... I know quite a lot synonyms for it, but none of them will match. There's also words like fate, destiny, luck, providence..."

"Providence! I think that is word. Let me think..." Ed made mental notes in his head and smiled to himself. He had just learned new words. _In your egoistic face, Mustang..._ "Law of Natural Providence, I think. Not sure. But I think it is. If something is made out of certain material, alchemy can only change it to something else that has same amount of same material."

"So... back to the water thing," Hermione said thoughtfully. "So if there was something mostly made out of water, alchemy can only turn it to something else with the attributes of water?"

Ed nodded appreciatively. Yes, Mustang was right. He had to reluctantly agree with the bastard. Yes, Hermione Granger was smart. Very smart. But the way she had explained the Law of Natural Providence... wasn't that how Al had explained it to Rose back in Liore, just a short while before they had exposed Father Cornello of fraud? It filled him with nostalgia. He shoved the parchment to Hermione's side. It was now full of sloppy writing, arrows and lines, and plenty of crossing out.

"That is all I will teach you. No more."

Hermione looked surprise. "Can't you teach me a little more? About how to _do_ alchemy? Please?"

Ed shook his head firmly. "No. Cannot change my mind. Alchemy takes a long time to learn. Is hard. In order to train spirit for alchemy, must train body too." He ignored Hermione's ignorance at Teacher's words and continued saying: "I taught you simple laws. Go and read your books. Talk to other people about alchemy. I do not feel you are ready to learn alchemy yet. Mustang will say no as well. Maybe when I give a think, maybe when you ready, maybe I will tell more." He tapped a finger at the parchment. "You keep that."

Ed was happy. He had taught what he needed to teach, and he was proud of how he had explained the laws. Now, she was leaving Ed alone. _That was better._

Granger nodded, obviously looking downfallen, and rolled up the parchment. "Well, thank you, Edward. I learned a lot today." She smiled a little. "If you don't mind, I'll be leaving now-"

"HERMIONE!" a voice yelled, and in came the Weasley friend of Potter's, the twin brothers, Ginny and Potter himself. Ed glared at them, looking annoyed - well, who wouldn't, Ed justified, if a group of people had just stormed in and invaded his privacy? "We've been looking for you everywhere!"

They all approached Hermione - well, not the twins; there was a _crack_ and the twins had magically appeared just a few metres from where they had just been. She picked up the parchment, nodding at Edward uncomfortably, and looked at Potter and Weasleys. "I'm fine. I decided to take a break after what you told me. I asked Edward here to teach me about alchemy. He taught me just the laws, but I think I've learned quite a lot."

"Really?" One of the twins raised an eyebrow. "So you _took_ Hermione just like that?" He snapped his fingers.

"Fred, he didn't-" Hermione began, but was stopped by the other twin, who had to be George.

"Well, you should know that taking Hermione-"

"-is a serious crime," finished Fred.

"Even if you borrowed her-"

"There's quite a filthy fee to pay-"

"-a quite large borrowing fee-"

"-let's get the papers-"

"-heck, let's bring in the Wizengamot. Wait, should we?" The twins laughed heartily. "Of course, maybe we can shorten the borrowing fee, it'll still be taller than him!"

"What? Don't call me short!" Ed suddenly stood up and yelled, switching languages in the course of a few moments: "I'm not short - _call me a tiny elf who can breathe underwater because he's_ as small as water molecules and cannot be as big as a small bee _because I'm smaller than the damn sting!"_

They simply stared, obviously stifling giggles from Ed's bilingual outburst. He sighed, growled, "Not small. Not short. Shut up," and watched as they exited the bedroom.

But something had bothered Edward. Before the small party had come in the room. It had began when he was talking to Hermione. It had also appeared with the twins (however annoying they had been), Ron and Potter.

It seemed like they had known something about Edward that he didn't know they knew. Something secret. Something important.

He shook his head. He had better things to worry about.

He took the English-Amestrian translation dictionary and reluctantly began to read.

* * *

That night, Harry read over the letters from the Ministry he had received back at the night of the Dementor attack at Number Four, Privet Drive. He had just re-read the letter that had told of his expulsion from Hogwarts and his summon to a court hearing due to summoning a Patronus, and was moving towards the next one.

 _Dear Mr Potter,_

 _Further to our letter of approximately twenty-two minutes ago, the Ministry of Magic has revised its decision to destroy your wand forthwith. You may retain your wand until your disciplinary hearing on the twelfth of August, at which time an official decision will be taken._

 _Following discussions with the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Ministry has agreed that the question of your expulsion will also be decided at that time. You should therefore consider yourself suspended from school pending further enquiries._

 _With best wishes,  
_ Mafalda Hopkirk  
 _Improper Use of Magic Office  
_ _Ministry of Magic_

One thing that had made him annoyed - despite the fact that Dumbledore was the one who ensured that he would be staying at Hogwarts until proven guilty - Dumbledore hadn't bothered to even _speak_ to him directly, not even an owl or a simple message. It almost made him angry. Especially when he had realised that Dumbledore was the one who had kept him in the dark all summer, the one who didn't do anything to solve Harry's plight, even _drop in a bodyguard for Harry_ without his knowing or consent...

The bodyguard thing... honestly, it made Harry uncomfortable a little. Edward Elric... he had struck Harry as a little strange. It had confused him why the State Military - which, according to Hermione, was a large part of the government there in Amestris - would let a young boy into their ranks. He was not going to tell or ask Mustang about this, either. At least Mustang _talked_ to the others, whether it be about Amestris, the Order, whatever. Elric was always shut up in the bedroom, reading books on God knows what. And the Philosopher's Stone... that had been a weird encounter last night. He had seemed confused, a little irritated that it had been destroyed. But the way how he said the Stone didn't work that way... what did Elric mean? It confused him.

At least he knew a little something about Edward. Body-guarding was not something Harry would have been looking forward to - heck, he didn't want someone to be watching his every move and hearing his every word and conversation 24/7. _But if Elric is part of the military... he must be good. The Order must know about Edward's expertise to bring him here. If the military trusts him... should we trust him too? Damn..._

Elric hadn't seemed to happy about this. Harry could understand. The way he acted, the way he had reacted when Mustang told him, it was almost as if he was like a dog. Being pushed around.

It almost made Harry feel sorry for him.

 _Almost._

He glanced at the clock. It was almost midnight, and he would have to wake up and leave early for his hearing tomorrow. It gave him the nerves. Would he be expelled from Hogwarts or not? If so... the chance to live with Sirius... it made him smile in the dark. And Elric would've also been able to go home early, like he wanted to.

He pulled up his blankets, and went to sleep.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading Chapter 4._

 _To chunkyfunkymonkey, whether Ed was going to be a student or not was something that I gave a lot of thought prior to writing the fanfiction. But you'll have to remember that even though he is there at Hogwarts, his true mission is not to be a student, but to keep watch over Harry, as been requested of the Order. The Ministry have requested of the diplomatic party for Ed to interact with students his age, and to learn the cultures of wizards. And yes, Ed will be struggling quite a bit in Hogwarts, not knowing all the information that is needed (especially in OWL year), it might or might not pose a problem for his mission..._

 _I hope I kept the character's personalities as they should be, and they reacted how they would if it had really happened._

 _Please drop a review, constructive criticism welcome._

 _Chapter 5 is next week. Please stay tuned. Actually, next chapter will be going back to Amestris at the start, so I hope you look forward to that._


	5. Chapter 5

_OVER 100 HUNDRED FOLLOWERS! DAMN! THANK Y'ALL SO MUCH!_

* * *

Al felt lonely.

He missed Edward a lot.

Edward had promised him several times that he would write to him, that they would keep in touch throughout the ten months they would stay apart. But no letter had come yet.

Lt. Hawkeye had continued to reassure him that it had just been two days, and that a letter was on the way. In fact, Alphonse was thankful to her. In Brother's and the Colonel's absence, she had decided to step up, with being Mustang's substitute and carer for Alphonse. She had offered her house, and Al had happily agreed. She kept his secret of his body to herself, and the young Elric had enjoyed playing and walking Black Hayate. But still... it didn't match up to how he and Edward - if he was here, they would be on another adventure, to some place on the other side of the country...

... not _in some random country miles away,_ where 'magic' was the superior power used instead of alchemy.

Alphonse had written to Winry the day Edward had left for Britain, a letter explaining he and his brother wouldn't be stopping by Rockbell Automail for quite a long time because of the mission resulting in Brother's absence. He had just received the response from the Post Office just that morning, telling Al she would definitely visit him to cure him of his loneliness any time soon, and asking him if he could write to Ed about automail maintenance, and to make her point, she had sent Al a manual all on the topic. _When you write to that stupid pipsqueak brother of yours, make sure you give this to him!_ , she had written. _Tell him to stay safe too._

Black Hayate lay sleeping on the mat of the living room, just in front of the coffee table. Al watched him, peacefully sleeping without a care in the world. He almost felt a twinge of envy; he had not been able to sleep since that fateful day. The thought might have made him want to cry. Sadly, he couldn't. He couldn't sleep. Cry. Feel anything. In an empty shell of armour - the only object binding his soul to the mortal world. The price, he couldn't feel anything.

Or at least, Al couldn't feel anything until Ed left.

Now he felt lonely.

Lt. Hawkeye had been extremely nice and motherly to him. Al wished that others had seen this side of her. What surprised the younger Elric was that she had kept a large bookshelf of the greatest collection of books there was - books that contained stories that opened up to different worlds - especially worlds of magic and wizards. He read all of those books first - and tried to visualise where Ed had went. Would it be a magical stereotype from the fairy-tales his mother would read them at night?

If Al had a face that could show expressions, he would've smiled.

He had requested the Lieutenant to accompany him to the library. He went to look for books on Britain and the world of wizards. His result was borrowing quite a large pile of books (that he had usefully stored in his armour) that were on the topic of the little damp island in the West.

One book was open in his lap. It had talked a lot about the place - England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, tourist destinations, some useful phrases in the English language - but nothing of wizards, magic, not even this 'Ministry of Magic', 'Hogwarts', or 'Dumbledore.'

 _Mysterious,_ Al wondered. _Nothing about the topics or places Brother or the Colonel are involved in. I have to keep searching._

The door opened with a _clack_ and a _creak,_ and Alphonse noticed Lt. Hawkeye enter the house. She smiled at Alphonse. "How was the day? Did you find anything?"

Alphonse tried his best to shrug with large armour. "Not really. Not anything _useful,_ Lieutenant."

"Well, at least it's good you'll keep on trying..."

"Good day, Lieutenant?"

"It was alright, Alphonse." She grinned. "I never knew how much paperwork the Colonel kept hidden until I took his place. He'll have a large berating when he comes back... but enough about me. Has a letter come back from Edward yet?"

He shook his head. "It'll come, though. I'll wait."

She nodded, then proceeded to make dinner for herself. Al couldn't help but think about how, on his adventures, people unaware about his body would cook and prepare meals for Edward, as well as himself. It had been sad, really, to waste food (Al was, throughout his life even up to now, a large advocate about these things), by just throwing them through his helmet and it would fall straight to the bottom, and in the bedroom, removing the food and placing it in the trash bin. Ed would laugh at him, then talk excitedly about how close they were to their goal.

Then, the next day would come, and they would find themselves in a position where the goal had slipped away from them.

It had just occurred to Alphonse that now, at his Brother's absence, they would be at a large standstill on the quest to get their bodies back. Of course, Alphonse would continue studying, continue reading, but that wouldn't help them move forward. Even if Ed did find something, they would have to wait out the remainder of the mission's duration for their return.

But there was something good about this mission. Alphonse had currently taken up the habit of reading the paper whenever it was delivered, and he had noticed that Scar had been on the prowl, killing a State Alchemist who had bravely gone down in a "well-done, courageous" fight.

 _Would it matter if it was well-done?_ Al thought sadly. _Would it matter if it was courageous? It still meant he died... the same way Nina did._

But at least Edward was safe. From someone like Scar. Or maybe not. _Lord Voldemort..._ that name had appeared on the military's file. The Dark wizard who was after Harry James Potter. Who knew, maybe he could target someone like Brother? The thought scared him a little.

At the same time, however, Alphonse had faith. Absolute faith in his Brother. He would come back safely. He and the Colonel would return successfully, and they would go back to normal. Right now, all that Alphonse worried about his brother's broken English skills and his ability to interact with others. If Ed knew _that_ was the thing he was worrying about, he would've given his younger brother a large scolding. Al mentally chuckled at that.

He stared up at the window. _Brother, please please Brother, please be safe! I hope you're doing all right!_

* * *

By the time Ed had arrived to breakfast, he had heard from Mrs. Weasley that Harry had left to a hearing.

"Hearing?" he asked as Mrs. Weasley piled up delicious chicken sausages onto his plate.

"Well... it's a little of a long story, Edward," she replied. "Long story short, Harry's been called to the Wizengamot - wizard court, dear," she explained kindly as she saw Edward's confused face at the word. "A little magic to defend himself - led him to the wizard court from the Ministry. Sad, very sad. Poor Harry."

 _Oh, yeah... Mustang told me... but court? Court?! They'd take a kid to official court because of defending themselves? Wizards are stupid,_ Ed thought.

From the result of Mrs. Weasley talking even more, and because of Ron talking about it a little quite loud over breakfast, expulsion would have been faced by Harry if he had lost the case. Bullshit was all Ed could say. On the bright side, if he was expelled, the whole protection thing would have been dropped. After all, the Order had asked the Fuhrer-President for a body-guard for Harry _at Hogwarts,_ wasn't he? So there wouldn't be much use for himself and Mustang to continue staying. Still, it felt depressing to think about Mrs. Weasley entering their bedroom with a gloomy look, telling them Harry had been expelled and that the alchemists had to pack their bags straightaway and head home immediately.

Mustang went over to Ed, followed by the man from two nights ago, who had talked a little about Amestris. _"This is Mr. Lupin,"_ Mustang introduced him to Edward in Amestrian. _"Be nice, he's doing you a favour."_

The man, Lupin, smiled slightly, and laid a pile of books down onto the table. Ed stared at them and slowly read the titles of the books:

 _A History of Magic_  
 _Intermediate Transfiguration  
_ _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi  
_ _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ _  
_ _Magical Drafts and Potions_

"Even though you're going to Hogwarts to increase our countries' relationships, and despite the fact you're not there as an actual exchange student, you're expected to have basic knowledge here. It's the only way to survive the school." He smiled. "These are the most important books you'll need. The official Hogwarts letters will be coming soon, and Mrs. Weasley's volunteered to purchase them for you. But remember you're not entirely here for marks. So don't worry."

"Er... th-thank you," Edward nodded at Lupin, still smiling, and they both shook hands. His breakfast still half-finished, he raced upstairs and placed the books on his bed. He sighed. _How the hell am I going to finish_ this _heck-ton of crap by September 1st? At least, I'll have a little read later. Magical Drafts and Potions sounds interesting..._

As he headed back downstairs, he noticed the Weasleys playing a game with playing cards that seemingly looked familiar to Snap, except that the cards exploded at random times. As much as Edward enjoyed explosions, he avoided them and glanced at Hermione, who was reading some book on whatever. He didn't know, and as far as he knew, he didn't care.

"Hey, Elric!" one of the twins called. How they were recognised from Fred with George... it was confusing. He pat a space next to him. "D'you want to play?"

Ed froze. _Want to play?_

 _Nina._ That's she had said, right? _Want to play?_

She was there. Ed had left her. Left her to the ruthless hands of Shou Tucker. It wasn't her fault. She was turned like that. She was killed.

And Ed _wasn't there._ He wasn't there to help when she had died. He hadn't done _anything to help._

It was _his fault._

 _Want to play?_

"Hey, Edward?" Hermione asked softly, and she was waving a hand in front of his face. "Are you okay?"

Ron chuckled. "Hell, you looked like you saw a ghost."

Ed glared. But it was partially true... he _did..._ "Am fine," he replied briefly. "No play." He decided to head back to breakfast. It had been stupid of him, thinking about Nina in that brief moment. All they had asked was whether or not he wanted to join their game. It annoyed him. He saw Mustang watching him carefully from the other side of the dining table, but ignored him as he quickly stuffed the sausages in his mouth at an incredible speed. Mustang kept on watching him, and judging by the look in his eyes, Ed knew that the bastard was ordering him to go interact with the other wizards.

Well... at least Potter wasn't present. Maybe the fact that his own... well, _client_ wasn't here would probably help. So he clicked his tongue in annoyance at Mustang, pushed in his seat and cleared his plate. According to Mustang, he would be leaving early to Hogwarts, maybe to see Dumbledore, meet other teachers? _I hope that time comes soon... jerk._

He went up to the group again, taking his seat next to the one he had felt comfortable with most - Hermione. She hadn't noticed him approach, her head in a book (which Ed deemed to be an interesting read if she was this engrossed - he could relate). He watched thoughtfully as the Weasley redheads continued to play their game of Snap with the exploding cards, then took a peek at what Hermione was reading. It had said the words: _Evanesco, to vanish animate or inanimate objects, into nonbeing, which is to say, everything._ It had surprised the Fullmetal Alchemist that the pictures had moved (though he had already seen numerous animate photos and portraits in the short time he had been staying with them), and it showed a tiny drawing of a wizard in a pointed hat and cloak, pointing his wand, mouth moving soundlessly; the object the spell was focusing on was a small frog, hopping around; a spark of light moved towards the frog, and it had vanished. Ed whistled. In alchemy, as far he knew, it was not possible to make things 'vanish.' Alchemy was a practice based on changing matter or an object into another matter or object, not vanishing objects "into nonbeing, which is to say everything." Hermione seemed to notice his curiosity as he looked at the book, and she tilted the book a little so that Ed would see the cover. _Intermediate Transfiguration._ Huh. That was one of the books Lupin had given him. One of the school books. If the pages looked like these, Edward mused, then Intermediate Transfiguration would prove to be a compelling read, regardless whether he could even perform one of the spells or not.

"This is school book, is it not?" he asked, gazing at the cover thoughtfully.

"Well, yes, it's one of the books that are required for fifth year at Hogwarts," she replied. "I've read it quite a few times, and I know all the spells, but I wanted to read it again."

"I read book like this," Ed pointed at the title of the book, "so I know what you have learned over past few years. But you... why do you read book again and again, when you know all spells?"

"Well, it's good to know some information to be prepared, you know. Besides, this year is OWL year, so we have to be prepared-"

 _"God,_ Hermione," Ron drawled from his card game. "OWL year won't be until after Christmas, so why don't you give it a break?"

"The OWL exam _is_ important, though!" Hermione shot back. "This can decide what your future career could be! If you don't get enough OWLs in certain subjects, you might not be able to get a good job-"

"But what is OWL?" Ed asked. The name confused him. Then again, wizards tended to be _very_ confusing. They had stupid terms. _Muggle_ for "non-magical peoples"... "Is OWL not a bird? Bird used for... for sending your mail?"

The Weasley twins chuckled. "There's more to the word _owl_ than that, Edward, our little lad."

"NOT LITTLE!" Ed bellowed. He calmed down enough, ignoring the twins' bouts of laughter, and listened to Hermione explain: "Ordinary Wizarding Level. It's an exam for fifth-years. It basically tests all your knowledge on all the subjects you've learned over your years at Hogwarts."

Ron sighed. "I _hate_ OWL year. Besides seventh year, this is the most stressful time. My brothers told me we get extra homework, more lectures, more stress, more pressure-"

"Not if you use your time wisely to complete your homework, you'll do perfectly fine in your exams if you do that," Hermione chided, and Ron just rolled his eyes. "I have more subjects to take, I have Ancient Runes, and I have Arithmancy, two of the most difficult subjects in Hogwarts, and our Professors have told us we're going to get tested on-"

Ed liked Hermione as an acquaintance, but no way in hell would he want to listen to her go on and on about her subjects - Ancient Runes? And something that sounded familiar to 'arithmetic', so he cut in, saying: "Good thing I am not here for marks or test, then. Only here for library. Only here for books."

"And protecting Harry," one of the twins blurted out.

Ed stared at him. "How do you know that?"

"Well, you _are_ going to do that, aren't you?"

"That does not answer question. How do you know that?"

"We're well knowledgeable, Edward, m'boy," the other twin said heartily.

"We don't confide our personal sources to just anyone-" the twin next to him spoke.

"-we could, but-"

"-you'd have to pay a big fee-"

"-bigger than the fee to borrow Hermione-"

"-which you still haven't paid-"

"-so that brings our offer up to 20 Galleons-"

"-no more, no less."

Whatever Galleons were, Ed did not want to know. Who had told them about the body-guarding Harry plan? A member of the Order, maybe? _Shit._ Damn, by the looks of the whole group, Ginny excepted, he realised that they all knew.

And if they knew, the chance was very high Harry Potter did too.

He sighed. "Does not matter, then." Wishing to change the subject, he said, "What is coming after breakfast?"

The whole group groaned. "Cleaning," Ginny said sadly.

"Cleaning?" Ed asked.

"Mum may be all nice to you, and she gave you some space yesterday 'cause you just came and all that, but that's not going to stop her from telling you to help her kill all the Doxys and whatnot in the house?"

"Doxys?" Ed raised an eyebrow. "What is Doxys?"

"These tiny little fairy pests," Ron wrinkled his nose. "I _hate_ them so much. Little things bit me on the fingers. I killed the biter afterwards."

 _Fairy pests? Damn, the magical world might not be as far from the stories as I thought it was..._ "So we do cleaning afterwards. Killing Doxys."

"Pretty much, yeah," Ron shrugged.

"That is fine with me."

Sure enough, about ten or twenty minutes later, Mrs. Weasley had rushed in, placing down piles of gloves and spray cans of what she had called 'Doxycide.' Giving it a little bit of thought, Edward hesitated over the gloves, then decided to wear them, then took the can of Doxycide. She had taken them to the other side of the house, and told them to clean up the place since it was infested with Doxys and had also asked them to clear the corners and ceiling of cobwebs.

Cleaning wasn't as bad as Ed thought it would be, as horrible as all the Weasleys made it seem. It satisfied Ed a little to spray the Doxycide at the Doxys, and watch them do a tiny squeal and fall to the ground. He saw Ron, Fred and George complain and curse as they narrowly escaped being bitten on the hands by those tiny pests; while the girls simply cleaned and sprayed, talking to one another. It annoyed Edward a little to hear the boys' protests on cleaning - there was really no point complaining against it. And why were they complaining on something so little? Ed remembered how he always complained about the large military missions Mustang had given him, how he had complained for the large 10-month mission to the British magical world. Life was worse than cleaning out the house of fairy-like pests. He just wished the Weasley boys had recognised that.

They had been cleaning for an hour or two, until Mrs. Weasley, and Sirius had come in and commended them on their work, followed by the return of Harry and Mr. Weasley, who had announced the good news: Harry had been cleared, innocent of all charges. Ed simply nodded. Of course he would have to get off. If he was trying to defend himself, then why go to court in the first place? Hermione hugged her friend and congratulated him, Ron patted Harry on the back, punching his fist in the air and saying that he knew Harry would be cleared; Fred, George and Ginny took this as a cause for large celebration, doing a strange little dance while chanting on repeat. It went with the words, "He got off, he got off, he got off." It had lasted quite a while, until Mrs. Weasley, clearly annoyed about her children's loudness over their conversation, bellowed "SHUT UP!", and then there was silence.

"You got off, didn't you?" Ed nodded appreciatively again. Harry widened his eyes; it had been obvious he had not expected Ed to start talking to him. "Yeah... yeah, I did."

"That is good," Ed replied. "Would be bad if you had been told guilty. Now you can go back to Hogwarts."

Ed's last statement gained a whoop, some cheers, and the Weasley twins ruffling Harry's hair. One thing he had noticed, however - despite Sirius' large grin and telling Harry he was proud and how he had expected it, he looked clearly downcast under that merry face. Ed didn't care, however. It wasn't too much of a large matter, anyway.

* * *

Days passed, and the joy of the news of Harry's successful hearing was beginning to die down around Number 12, Grimmauld Place. One thing Mustang was pleased about was that the day had come for him to leave for Hogwarts. The military mission was about to be in full start.

Fullmetal had seemed pleased about it, too. That night, at dinner, Roy had noticed Edward wolf down his dinner quicker than usual, a large smile on his face, nodding and talking to whoever started a conversation with him, no matter how short (well, Edward was definitely shorter than the conversation, Roy wanted to quip, but he decided against it. Why wreck his good mood?).

One of the Hogwarts teachers, also an Order member, had arrived to escort Roy to Hogwarts. According to the Order, and the students who definitely knew her, she was a teacher who taught the magical subject of 'Transfiguration.' That seemed interesting to the Flame Alchemist - to transfigure something into something else was something that alchemy did, but of course with different laws - the Law of Equivalent Exchange. She had seemed to Roy as the type of teacher who was strict, but fair. McGonagall was her name - Minerva McGonagall.

While Fullmetal and Potter's friends were busy with cleaning, according to Mrs. Weasley, Roy had packed all his suitcases, ready to go to Hogwarts. He had learned that the clothes he had packed were not suitable for wear at the magical school - instead of suits, vests, coats and ties, he would spend the school year walking around the school in a pointed hat and black robes. The robes Roy would reluctantly accept. The hat, however, gave him second thoughts. _Wizards don't really have any fashion sense, don't they?_ he thought.

When the meal was finished, McGonagall had promptly stood and asked Roy if he was ready to leave. He shook his head at this, telling her to give him a few more minutes, as he pulled Fullmetal to the side for a few orders.

 _"I won't be seeing you for the last week, so, Fullmetal, try to behave yourself."_

 _"Don't worry,"_ grinned Fullmetal, _"I won't. It sounds like a dream. I mean, spending time in the same room as you and having arguments isn't my type of way how to properly spend a good holiday."_

 _"Be nice to the other wizards. Interact with Potter and his friends, you'll be Potter's bodyguard anyway, so it's best to maintain a good relationship with him, and his friends,"_ Roy ordered.

 _"Yeah, yeah, okay..."_ Edward shrugged. _"So... it's bye for now? Boy, this'll be fun."_

They both returned to the dining table and Mustang nodded at all the present members of the Order. "Thank you for letting me stay here," he gestured around the room. "It was... very nice to meet you. I would like to use a better word than nice, but I do not know proper word in English. All I can say is thank you."

"So, we won't be seeing you until Hogwarts then?" asked the Weasley tag-a-long of Potter's - Ron, his name was called? Yes, Ron.

"Not until Hogwarts," Roy reassured. "That will be just short while. I will see some of you again, for what you call better or worse." At the word _worse,_ he glanced at Elric, who raised an eyebrow at him. His expression was very easy to read for Roy: _Please go already._

Roy shook hands with several Order members - Lupin, Black, Tonks, Mr. Weasley, etc. He went up to Mrs. Weasley and politely bowed like the gentleman he was. He was very sure she was blushing a light shade of red when he did so.

"If you have question," he declared, "please tell me by letter. I'll see you next time, at Hogwarts for the children here."

"Are you ready to leave?" McGonagall looked at him. "Time is short."

Roy nodded. "Please, lead the way."

He looked at Edward, and in front of all the wizards, said in Amestrian: _"I'll see you at Hogwarts, Fullmetal,"_ which was met with a firm nod from Fullmetal himself.

Then they both turned and left the warmth of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, to face the freezing night.

* * *

Edward had been surprised when Ron had handed him a Hogwarts letter.

Strange, it had not occurred to Edward - it had not _sunk in_ to him that he would be studying at Hogwarts until Ed had been called into the room, and Ron had handed him an envelope.

It was enclosed with a large purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms: a lion, an eagle a badger and a snake emblazoned on backgrounds of red, blue, yellow and green respectively, surrounding a large letter 'H', with words in another language (Ed hoped that knowledge of this new language would be not be required at Hogwarts): _DRACO DORMENS NUNQUAM TITILLANDUS._ Whatever the hell _that_ meant... he would be sure to ask later.

He gazed down at his letter, written in deep black ink: it was about being at Platform 9 3/4, Kings' Cross Station by 11AM on September 1st, to board a train called the Hogwarts Express. _A fractional platform? What the hell? Is this a joke?_ He doubted it, though, and continued to scroll his eyes down the list.

 **BOOKS NEEDED  
** _ **Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5**_ **by Miranda Goshawk  
 _Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert Slinkhard**

 **Books used in the last year, bar _Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4_ will be used again for the fifth year. **

_Huh._ Ed thought about the books Lupin had given him a few days back. Maybe that was what the letter meant. He heard the twins talking about the second book mentioned on the booklist; apparently, they had the same thing. Strange, Edward thought, for a seventh year, a senior to be using the same book as students two years their junior. They were not talking about this, however, more about which teacher had assigned the book to them.

"The only meaning for this is that Dumbledore's found us a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," Fred said. His brother agreed, adding in that it was perfect time for a new teacher as well. This confused Edward.

"What you mean... new teacher? Time for new teacher?"

"Welp, it's common knowledge for every Hogwarts student that every single year, we get a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," George explained. "It's a damn jinx - you can't take the job and stay for more than one school year."

"Well, there was Quirrell, who ended up to be working for You-Know-Who and was trying to kill Harry. Then there was Lockhart, who lost his memory and now is more useless than he was back at Hogwarts. Lupin was the best-" Ed thought of the Order member who had given him the school books - he had been a teacher? He hadn't expected that... - "but he was forced to retire at the end of the year. Then there was Moody, who turned out to be a Death Eatrer - one of You-Know-Who's followers - and now he's gone," Fred counted them on his fingers. "I wonder who we'll have this year..."

"So basically," Harry put in, "one's dead, one's memory lost, one's sacked and one's stuck in some trunk for nine months."

When _Moody_ was mentioned, Ed thought of the Order member with the strange eye. "Moody was... Death Eater?"

"A Death Eater _disguised_ as Moody," George corrected. "If Moody _was_ a Death Eater, then why would he be here in the Order?"

"Why is Snape an Order member, then?" Harry asked back. The name meant nothing to Ed, but it was certainly one that brought distaste and disgust to Harry and the Weasleys. From what Ed gathered from asking them afterwards, Snape was a teacher in Hogwarts - he taught the subject of 'Potions.' From the way Ron described him, Ed could only tell that he was not good news. Then again, Ron had been the same person who had complained a lot about a simple chore of killing Doxys. However, these afterthoughts disappeared when Harry told him that Snape himself had been a Death Eater.

"One of... Voldemort's followers?" Ed asked. The Weasleys flinched at the name, which confused Ed. _What was the damn problem with a fucking name?_ Harry raised an eyebrow.

"You say the name?"

"Well, it does not pose problem. So, he is one of his followers?" Ed asked again.

Harry nodded, his expression as if he had sucked on a raw lemon. Disdain. Dislike. Contempt. Not like how Ed felt with Roy Mustang at times, no matter how much of a bastard he was. "They say _Dumbledore_ trusts him, but that should be one of the greatest mistakes he made. Trusting Snape." He shook his head at Dumbledore angrily. This confused Ed a little, but he decided not to think too much about it. "What do you think, Ron? You've been awfully quiet these past few minutes."

All those present in the room turned towards Ron, who had been gaping silently at his letter throughout the whole discussion. Ed found no reason to do this, unless he must have been that shocked to see the new books, or the simple fact the time to return to school had arrived (Ed had always hated going back to elementary school after the holidays. He could relate). The twins, being impatient, peered over Ron's shoulder, and to Ed's surprise, on seeing their brother's letter, their mouths were open in perfect 'O's. Ed joined them, and in Ron's hand was a scarlet-red badge, with a gold outline, gleaming and twinkling in the light. A gold lion was emblazoned over the badge's background, and over the lion was the large letter 'P.'

 _"Prefect?!"_ The twins exclaimed. "PREFECT?!" Then they both looked at Harry, exclaiming their shock about Harry not receiving the badge. To Ed, this meant nothing - did prefect simply mean that they got a shiny lion badge? "But Dumbledore should've _known_ you deserved to get Prefect," Fred spluttered at Harry, who had currently taken the badge to observe. "I mean, look at all the heroic stuff you've done-"

"Welp, on the other hand, Harry _has_ broken a filthy amount of rules to _do_ these heroic stuff," George said thoughtfully. "But we still thought you were a fucking cert!"

 _On the other hand..._ maybe becoming Prefect really _was_ that much of an honour, not just getting some nice badge, Ed mused. He tapped on Harry's shoulder. "What is this prefect?"

"Well... it's kind of hard to explain... but you do stuff like help out first-years to the dormitories, patrol hallways to check if people don't break curfew, and they watch over young students."

Ed looked alarmed at this. "That is just being police!" Harry also seemed to notice the Weasleys' confused faces at 'police', and quickly explained them as Muggle 'lawkeepers'. "I get what you mean," Fred nodded.

"You are just baby-sitters!" Ed said. Because of what Harry said, wasn't that basically what the role of Hogwarts prefect meant. Fred and George stifled laughs, as Harry said: "Well, it's not just that. The Headmaster gives them other special and extra stuff to do."

Ed tapped his chin thoughtfully. "So you are just baby-sitter and..." _What's the word in English for someone who's sucked up to the teacher? Oh right..._ "teacher's pet! That is all you are!"

Fred and George burst in laughter, and Ron, despite still looking shocked at his new appointment as Prefect, cracked a small smile. The laughs stopped to a halt as the door opened with a bang, which almost made Ed jump. He saw Hermione, an envelope also in her hand, asking, "Did you - did you get-" she glanced at Harry, and made a large squeal. Ed glanced at Harry; he still had Ron's badge in his hand. "I KNEW IT! I got it too, Harry, I got it too-"

Ed felt pushed a little from the back, and saw Harry rush over to Ron and shove the badge towards the badge - "It's not me who got it. It's Ron. Ron's the new prefect, not me."

It was very obvious to see the crestfallen face of Hermione as she found that it had been Ron, instead of Harry, who had received the damn badge, despite the smile and the "Oh! That's good Ron". _Seriously,_ Ed thought, _what was so damn good about a fucking badge? What's so good about baby-sitting younger kids and doing stuff the teacher tells you to?_

The door opened again, and Mrs. Weasley swept in, talking about several things that Ed barely heard because of his inability to keep up with her fast-talking in English: new books from 'Diagon Alley', Ron's new pyjamas and how fast he was growing, and asking him what would be his colour. Ed noticed the twins smirking, then saying: "Get him red and gold. To match his badge."

"His what?" Mrs. Weasley looked at her two identical sons, who smirked even more. Behind her, Ed saw Ron face-palming and shaking his head. As Ed walked closer to him, he muttered: "Oh no, Mum's going to be a monster..."

Whatever else Ron said, Ed never heard, as Mrs. Weasley let out a large squeal, even worse and even louder that Hermione's ever was. _I'm surprised that the windows haven't broken yet..._ Ed thought, as Ron was pulled into a large embrace from his mother, who talked happily about how amazing it was to become prefect, how happy his father and brothers would be at the news, and how, if he had kept a good attitude up, he would become Head Boy like his two elder brothers. Behind Ed, he could visualise the twins in a mix of eccentric laughter and over-the-top uses of the gag reflex.

When Mrs. Weasley had left, with Ron going off to tell her about what kind of 'broom' he wanted (this made Edward even more confused, but more convinced about wizards being fucked up. Who wanted brooms as a prize? And who named their brooms ridiculous names such as 'Nimbus' and 'Cleansweep'?) the twins burst into even more laughter and jokes, then disappeared with a _crack._ The laughter could still be heard from upstairs.

 _This is going overboard..._ Ed thought an hour later, as he saw the large banner above the table: _**CONGRATULATIONS RON AND HERMIONE - NEW PREFECTS.**_ Ed remembered when he was the age of 12, when his new superior officer, Roy Mustang, handed him the certificate of his acceptance to be a dog of the military, access to hundreds, if not thousands of top-secret archives of research, and his new code-name of 'Fullmetal.' He and Al had chosen none of the rest of the day to celebrate. The day the Elric residence burned down, books, photos, furniture, memories of a life now lost - that had happened on the same day. Now reduced to ash and cinders, to rot to the dust. _DON'T FORGET - 3. OCT. 11._

Despite all this, Ed ate well, a little better than usual - it was almost the thought of Mustang being gone was just simply beginning to sink in. He sat opposite Harry and his friends, not talking again, but Ed was pleased at his progress with 'interacting with fellows his age.' He almost thought he did it simply to shove his effort in the Flame Alchemist's face the next time he saw him.

There was a large toast to the two new prefects, and Ed couldn't help but join a newly-made conversation about prefects. _So it's that important... huh._ Ed had only learned Tonks' name a day or two ago - the woman who could shape-shift at will. She talked a lot about 'lacking qualities' that were necessary for a Prefect, and Sirius had joined in, saying that he and James - there was that name again - had stayed too much time in detention, and that Lupin had gotten it.

Slowly, as the conversation got deeper, Ed began to drift away. He sipped Butterbeer from his cup, wondering whether the letter from Al was going to arrive. It had almost been a week. Through thorough calculations, Ed estimated that an owl flying to Amestris and back to Britain, and vice versa, would take an awful while. Still, he hoped Al was doing safe and fine back there. The school year hadn't even begun; that meant Ed's mission to protect Harry hadn't begun either. He still wished he had some time-travelling device to transport himself to the end of the year, where he and Mustang were on the train from Creta or wherever back to Central Station, where Al would be waiting for him, and they would continue on their mission to retrieve their bodies, on their search to find the Philosopher's Stone.

Time passed, and despite the night being fairly young, Ed decided to head upstairs.

He didn't know what he would see would disturb him to the very core.

* * *

Harry felt a lot better during the middle of the prefect party. He had learned that neither his father or godfather had become prefects as well, and Moody giving him a photo of the original Order - the one that contained both his parents. Despite the happiness he felt when he saw them, his heart also sunk at the fact when he had learned that other members in the photo had perished a short while after the photo taking. Wormtail made him frown in disgust - the damn traitor.

As Sirius saved him the trouble of giving Moody feedback on the picture, Harry silently crept up the stairs, now following strange noises that he began to hear as soon as he reached near the top of the staircase. Calling out, Harry was surprised to hear little bouts of sobbing. Opening the drawing-room door, he saw two figures.

The first was Mrs. Weasley, her wand clutched tightly in her hand, body shaking, crying and weeping. The second was a smaller figure, trying his best to comfort her, telling her in a shaky voice to avert her eyes from the sight - Edward. Harry turned and saw... no, it couldn't be... he had seen Ron happily eating a rich meal back downstairs, talking to Tonks about quality broomsticks - but there was Ron, dead, on the floor.

 _Boggart._

Mrs. Weasley faintly pointed her wand at the dead Ron form, and said, her voice choked with sobs - "R-r- _riddikulus."_ The body turned into Bill, and this brought in more sobs. The Boggart continued to change form at her failure to eliminate it, turning into dead, bloodied forms of Mr. Weasley, Fred and George, Percy, and even Harry...

"Elric, get Mrs. Weasley out of here!" Harry bellowed. "I'll get help-"

No need, as Lupin had rushed up, asking what happened. As Edward went up to him to explain, he froze in front of the Boggart. It was almost as if it was staring at him thoughtfully, cackling with hysterical laughter. Then slowly, dead Harry morphed into something else...

Whatever it was, it was scary. Elric seemed stationary, his eyes on the Boggart, true fear, true terror plaguing his vision. It was some kind of _thing._ It was sprawled across the surface of the ground, lying down; its terrifying face looking at Elric from upside-down. Harry wanted to call the thing _human,_ but he couldn't, despite its human-like figure and shape. Its ribs were out of place, its eyes were nothing but circular pools of red, teeth bared and pointed. Its legs were deformed and misshapen, feet and hands out of place. It breathed slowly and silently, almost as if it was panting. _Was this what Elric is afraid of?_

Whatever it was, it was Elric's greatest fear.

Elric fell on his knees in terror, eyes still fixed on the damn thing, despite Lupin's calls of "EDWARD! GET YOURSELF AWAY FROM THERE! LET ME FIX THIS!" Elric did not seem to hear Lupin, however. As Harry placed his shoulder on Edward, eyes not looking at the Boggart at all, he heard a sound he would've never expected from someone like him - a tough, stubborn-headed person: several whimpers of terror, and... some choked back _sobs._

Not like Mrs. Weasley - quiet weeping. Elric kept on quietly muttering words in his own language, words Harry couldn't understand, whimpering and crying a little as he did so.

"Elric," Harry said loudly and firmly. "Don't worry... just get out of here, Lupin will solve this..."

He didn't move. Harry sighed, and Lupin moved forward, bellowing loudly, wand pointed at the _thing,_ "RIDDIKULUS!"

 _Crack._ It turned into Lupin's own greatest fear, a white, silvery orb suspended in the air - the _moon._ Lupin waved his wand again, and the moon disappeared in a puff of smoke. Then he went to tend Mrs. Weasley.

Elric still was in front of where the Boggart was, almost as if someone had thrown the Body-Bind Curse at him. Harry shook him a little. Then Elric lifted his head, and turned slowly towards Harry. His face was red; his eyes were red from crying. Elric quickly wiped his wet face, asking in a soft whisper Harry barely heard: "What... what was that thing?"

"Boggart," Harry explained. "It's this creature that turns into whatever you're most afraid of. Don't worry, the thing it turned into, it's not real. It just wants to scare the fuck out of you. It's gone now. Lupin got rid of it." He glanced at Lupin, now with Sirius, both of them comforting Mrs. Weasley, telling them that seeing her dead family would never occur in real life, and that it was all okay. Mrs. Weasley wiped away the last of her tears and approached a frightened Elric.

"Poor dear, poor Edward..." she tutted softly. "That was his first time, wasn't it? Because I doubt they have Boggarts in Amestris."

Edward shook his head. Sirius placed a hand on Edward's shoulder. "Can you stand?"

Nodding, the small alchemist stood, and within a few moments Harry was sure he had regained his composure. He looked up at all of them, Harry included. "Don't tell other people about this."

The adults smiled at Elric's firm and tough tone of voice, and they all nodded. Harry nodded as well. Then Edward gave a final nod towards all of them, then turned and walked out.

"I should go and ask if he needs anything," Lupin said. "Water, anything. Molly, don't you want anything? Water?"

At the shake of Mrs. Weasley's head, Lupin smiled and left.

"I think you should get going, Harry, dear," she patted his shoulder thoughtfully. "Don't worry, I'm fine. It's okay." Harry was sure that the last part was more reassuring herself than Harry. Nodding, Harry gave a small wave at her and Sirius, then left.

He was sure not to tell anyone about what he had seen - Elric's greatest fear, he would keep his promise to Elric and not tell a soul - not even Ron or Hermione.

Today had been a strange day. And to think, just an hour back, he had been acting stupid over a damn prefect's badge.

* * *

 _Dear Brother,_

 _I was worried a little. The Lieutenant and I, we were playing a game of chess. It was a little lonely, and I was waiting and wondering whether your letter would ever come, then an owl kept on pounding at the window. (I apologised to Lieutenant Hawkeye after I noticed some scratch marks. The owl looked very hungry, so the Lieutenant went out and fed it. We didn't know that it contained your letter until I found it rolled up and tied to its leg._

 _Animal cruelty, Brother! Is this what the magical world uses to transport mail! Animal cruelty! The owl, however, seemed fine with it, though. All it did while it was fed was hold out its leg. For the letter, most likely._

 _I hope it's going great for you, and that you've actually found some FRIENDS. There's no way you can survive 10 months without any friends for the mission. Hopefully your English is getting better, too. We wouldn't want some misunderstandings, don't we?_

 _I've been reading some books on Britain, and it's quite an interesting place. I can't find too much about wizards, however._

 _Brother, when you get to Hogwarts (I think that's how you spell it), please make sure to eat well, and find good friends. Make sure you get to classes on time and work hard. Don't just spend your whole time reading about alchemy. Right here in Amestris, it's lonely. I visit the library daily, to keep up our research to see if I can find out anything about the Philosopher's Stone, but right now I'm at a standstill. I hope you've had more luck._

 _I miss you, Brother. Please come back soon. Please write back._

 _\- Alphonse_

 _PS: Say hello to the Colonel for me. Hawkeye asks if you can remind him to finish the military reports and send one back. The report was due a few days back._

 _PPS: Hawkeye says hi. She also says that the Fuhrer has asked for weekly reports as much as you can - one from you, one from the Colonel._

 _PPPS: Have you named the owl? If not, can I name it? PLEASE?_

* * *

 _Dear Al,_

 _It's been fine for me, but yeah, I'm at a standstill on finding stuff as well. Wizards' understanding of Philosopher's Stones, the body, mind and soul are stupid. To be honest, wizards are fucked up._

 _I'm fine right now. I don't like the people here, though. I talked to them more than usually for a while, but I've decided I didn't like it. It feels really strange talking to them. Tomorrow, I think, is the day we head for Hogwarts. I'd like to sleep, but there's too much stuff on my mind, not to mention the letter I received just a few hours back. Things are weird back on this side. Mustang's already left for Hogwarts. I'm having fun having the bedroom to myself. But today, I learned that there's this thing called 'prefects.' They're like babysitters for Hogwarts. Damn, Harry Potter looked so down not having one. Both his two friends got the notif today saying that they were going to be prefects. They got a shiny badge. It didn't seem so much of an honour to me, but you should have seen Ron's mother's face when she found out. They threw a party too._

 _I think that's all that's important for me to say. Tomorrow is when I leave for Hogwarts, so I won't be able to send this letter tomorrow. Oh, yeah, tell the owl when you send your next letter to me to send it to Hogwarts. Just write my name down on the envelope. It'll find me._

 _Oh, and the Colonel's late on his reports too? That'll be fun to rub in his face when I get to Hogwarts. And the owl... technically it's the Order's, but I remember this guy called Sirius Black told me I could use it for the rest of the year if I wanted. But as far as I know, it doesn't have a name, so feel free. (DON'T name it something stupid, please, by the way. I'm counting on you. Make sure it's a really cool name.)_

 _I can't even wait for the end of the school year, and it hasn't even fucking started._

 _\- Edward_

* * *

 _Thank you for reading Chapter 5._

 _I feel a little bad for not making Mustang have more interactions with the wizards like Edward, but I suppose there will be more when Hogwarts time comes. And for Ed... though he may have tried to interact with the wizards a little more, he's decided against interacting them like that until the future. After all, it's only been a few days knowing each other._

 _Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome. Thank you for your support. Welp, tomorrow's my birthday, so it'd be nice to see a few extra reviews in my inbox, but I guess that over 100 followers just five chapters in is a present unto itself... once again, thank you very much for all the support!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Time truly does fly,_ thought Harry as he dressed as quick as he could.

Today was the day he would return to Hogwarts. The day he would return _home._ Hogwarts filled him with nostalgia - the rich meals that were cooked three times a day, seeing his giant friend Hagrid again, the thrill of riding on a broomstick, reaching out his hand to the Golden Snitch in Quidditch. It felt amazing to be returning back to the castle again for his fifth year.

Of course, there were the negatives. Thanks to Hermione's stressing over the holidays about this certain topic, Ordinary Wizarding Level exams were coming up soon, and Harry was very sure there would be more homework and pressure given to fifth-year students. History of Magic would come again, and Harry was now thinking of bringing other activities in to entertain himself behind the _History of Magic_ textbook from the monotonous, never-ending drone of Professor Binns. Returning to Hogwarts would also mean suffering Snape and the Slytherins - especially Draco Malfoy and his stupid cronies for the next damn ten months. And of course, he would not forget the fact that now the whole wizarding world was calling him a liar, so he would have to deal with this also.

But he would worry about that later.

He raced down the staircase with his trunk, following the large, angry bellows of Mrs. Weasley, as well as the blood-curdling shrieks of Mrs. Black. She was yelling at Fred and George, and Harry had quickly learned about how they had made their trunks fly, then hurtled damn straight into Ginny and knocked her down two flights of stairs. Any attempt to create order (not _restore_ order, as long as Harry had been downstairs that hadn't been any order at all) was drowned out by the deafening shriek's of Sirius' mother. It was almost as if Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Black could form a musical duo with songs that only consisted of shouting.

"- COULD HAVE DONE SOME HORRIBLE INJURY TO HER, YOU IDIOTS-"

"-FILTHY HALF-BREEDS, STAINING AND DE-FOULING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS-"

Despite all this, Harry smiled. Mrs. Weasley had _definitely_ recovered from the Boggart incident the night before. He saw Hermione enter the room, looking stressed. Her prefect badge was in her hand, which she then shoved in the pocket of her jeans.

"Your mother's been all over the place, Ron," she said when she had finally caught up to them.

"Well, she's always like this," Ron sighed. "It could be worse. Back when I was in first year... well, let's say the twins were lucky to get out of the Burrow alive."

"Where's Edward?" Hermione said, glancing around.

"You really are becoming buddy-buddy with him, aren't you, Hermione?" Ron asked, smirking. Hermione ignored him and then, called "EDWARD! Come stay with us!"

Elric raised an eyebrow, then slowly ambled towards the trio. He had donned his red trench coat with the strange alchemy sign on the back once again, with a glossy black jacket with grey-silver lining, black trousers, and leather boots. In his gloved right hand, he held the handle of his very large trunk, slung over his shoulder.

"Didn't you bring two when you came here?" Ron asked.

"I did," Elric nodded, "but I went sorting last night. What things I needed. What things I do not. Here-" he tapped his trunk with his left hand - "books. Clothes for magic school. Important things. Took very long time. And someone did spell for me. Spell... space is bigger on inside. So easy for me to pack."

One thing Harry noticed was that Elric's voice was quieter and calmer than usual - and while Ron and Hermione would possibly never know, bother or care - Harry did. It was very obvious, despite his recovery, he was still shaken with the ordeals of last night. Elric shook his head at Harry, saying, "This is crazy."

"What?"

"Very noisy. What is word in English... I do not know. Crazy loud? ... _Chaos_. Yes, chaos." Elric glanced at Lupin and Sirius, who had finally managed to shut up Mrs. Black, and Fred and George arguing with their mother.

"Well, I guess it's usually like that," Harry shrugged. "Usually, it doesn't matter. We'll have to leave soon anyways."

"Leave... to magic school?"

"Well, first we go to Kings' Cross Station. _Then_ we take the Hogwarts Express. It'll take us to Hogwarts."

"I still think it better to call it 'magic school'," Elric smirked. "Your name for your school sounds strange."

"Maybe," Harry agreed. "But you'll enjoy it. You like books, right? Our library is fucking huge. You'll love it. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you and Hermione either started fighting each other because of the books, or start a whole book club dedicated to find the grandest books hidden in the topmost corners of the bookshelf."

"Sounds fun." There was a _crack_ and Fred and George appeared, despite Harry seeing them just a few metres away a few minutes ago.

"We should get going now," Fred said.

"If we had our way, we'd Apparate all the way to Kings' Cross. Straight to the damn platform," George added.

"Sadly, Mum told us if we even _thought_ of doing it, she'd disown us from the family."

"I mean, she won't disown us, but it'd be something still really bad-"

"-clearly you don't know our own mother, dear brother, because you seem to not know of what she is capable of doing."

"RIGHT!" Mrs. Weasley's voice bellowed. "WE'RE GOING NOW! LET'S GO!"

Harry glanced over at Mrs. Weasley, and noticed that next to her, a large black dog was following after her. He walked up to the dog and patted his head happily. "Hey, Sirius!"

He barked happily in reply. Shaking her head, Mrs. Weasley said: "Fine, on your own head be it, don't blame me if something bad happens..."

But if Mrs. Weasley had more to say than that, he didn't hear. Ed was close to Sirius, and noticing this, Sirius panted and gave a happy bark, tail wagging cheerfully. Ed did not respond in the same joyful way Sirius had. Instead, he froze, similar to how he had froze last night. He stared, eyes widened, as if Sirius had reminded him of something that was not good. But that had only lasted a few moments; Ed, not knowing Harry had seen his expression, gave a shake of his head and nervously patted Sirius on the head.

"RIGHT!" Mrs. Weasley yelled. "NO MORE DELAYS! LET'S GO!"

The twenty-minute walk on foot to Kings' Cross was nothing of an eventful one, and it made Harry feel content to have his godfather walking him to the station (despite the fact _he_ was walking Sirius, who was currently in the form of a dog). There was the occasional cat being frightened away by Sirius' intimidating size, and the scolding of Fred and George by Mrs. Weasley now and then, but nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Muggles just passed them. Some may have glanced at them, probably wondering about how strange it would be for a large group of people going together on the train, as if on a vacation - but they never gave a second look.

* * *

Ed had expected to get to this Kings' Cross Station in stealth. After all, this was wizard land, and the magics didn't want to found out by the non-magical population (which was basically the definition of Muggles - people with no magic).

He had expected them to go inconspicuous. Maybe get to the Kings' Cross platform invisibly, maybe even take a damn Portkey. Use magical stealth.

But _no._

First, Ed couldn't comprehend the fact that how these Muggles were acting normally to seeing owls. In cages. In plain sight on their trolleys. Of course, some gave the magical party a single strange glance, then not bother at all - they seemed too busy with their work or their destination- which was stupid to Edward. If he was going about his normal day and he saw some damn owl sitting plainly on top of the suitcases on the trolley, there'd mostly be some questions. Questions. Maybe quite a few arguments too.

And second... the way to the platform was really fucked up.

A wall. A ticket barrier that didn't work anymore. All they had to do, apparently, was run through that barrier and the platform would be in front of them.

 _Totally inconspicuous, right?_ Ed thought in irritation, as he pushed his trolley forward.

The walk to the platform was not really long - about ten or twenty minutes, but Ed hadn't minded. While Ron and the Weasley twins complained about their luggage, Ed gave a shake of his head. This was much easier than killing Doxys and cleaning up a room... were wizards really that lazy? Walking was fine. It had been... what were the words in English? _No sweat._ As they walked up to Kings' Cross, Ed silently thanked his Teacher, who had given him a large amount of endurance and stamina throughout their six-month training.

But right now... walking through a wall? _Are these wizards retarded?_

"We'll go first," the twins decided, and after a swift kiss and hug from their mother, they both charged into the barrier, and instead of a large crash, numerous injuries, open suitcases and broken trolleys, they simply disappeared. Vanished into thin air.

 _"Huh,"_ Ed muttered in Amestrian, as Harry disappeared into the barrier as well, followed by his two friends. Then Mrs. Weasley turned to Ed.

"Well..." she sighed. "I don't have much to say, Edward, but stay safe. Try to keep Harry and Hermione, as well as my own boy, out of trouble."

"Will try," Ed nodded slightly.

"And say hello to Mr. Mustang for me. It's not too much trouble, isn't it, dear?" she frowned a little, and Ed figured that she was genuinely concerned whether or not she was being a bother or a bore to him.

"I will. No trouble for me," and Ed attempted at a smile - a very authentic one. "Thank you for letting me stay with your Order. Your food very good, too." He turned to the barrier, but Mrs. Weasley took his arm, and as he turned to her, she took him in a very big hug.

It surprised Ed, really, to be hugged. A rush of thoughts overcame him. The nostalgia of being embraced by his own mother, and the happiness he had felt during this time, and the wonder of how long it had been during his last embrace. The soldiers never hugged him, obviously. Lt. Hawkeye, as motherly as she was towards the brothers, never did what Mrs. Weasley had just done to him. Gratitude swept over Ed - if he had been a soft and sensitive person, he might have wanted to cry.

Instead, he simply patted Mrs. Weasley on the back with his flesh arm. "Thank you," he whispered. He gave one final mischievous smirk at her, nods to the rest of the Order and the big black dog that happened to be Sirius, then ran towards the barrier.

 _Oh, God..._

* * *

Ed had learned, from his time spent at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, up to now, that wizards were definitely fucked up.

Yes, they were nice. Yes, they gave nice hugs. Yes, they were very decent most of the time. But that hadn't stopped them from being damn fucked up.

 _KINGS' CROSS, Platform 9 3/4._ Ed stared, then blinked, then squinted a few times to check whether he had been looking at the sign the wrong way. No, he wasn't. _What kind of psycho puts in a fraction? Damn, wizards are weird..._ He remembered seeing the name of the platform back on his Hogwarts letter, but it had not really sunk in until he saw it himself. Ed was that kind of person. He never believed something until he saw it in person. That was the simple logic he lived by.

He passed different students, as well as a handful of parents and younger siblings, both younger and older than him (Ed was not ready to admit that many of them were taller), mostly in Muggle attire, in shirts with crap slogans, denim jeans and hats, but some were already clad in black robes with shades of either red, blue, green or yellow, a few donning dark-coloured pointed hats and some badges either similar or different to the ones Ron and Hermione had. Ed remembered having a pointed hat in his suitcase. He thought bitterly about how stupid he was going to look. And it was uniform. That he had to wear. For the rest. Of. The. Fucking. Year.

He noticed Ginny, followed by a round-faced boy Edward's age, holding a struggling toad. Another sign of the wizards' weirdness. Owls he could understand... at least a little. But _toads?!_

Damn you, wizards. What the hell, Ed would never understand them.

He had lost sight of the trio and the Weasley twins, so he shook his head and decided not to follow them. He would look for them on the train. Besides, he didn't even need to be with them until he arrived at Hogwarts. There was a large clock, but instead of numbers (Ed shook his head angrily at this one), but replaced with planets and other heavenly bodies of the skies, as well as more clock hands than two. But he knew that the train would leave at eleven o'clock. Who knew what time it was right now, though? The train gave a large whistle that made Ed's ears buzz because of the loud volume, and Ed took his suitcase and headed into the train.

The trolley was left alone.

* * *

The train – the Hogwarts Express – had certainly exceeded Ed's expectations. When it came to trains in Amestris, Ed had a great amount of experiece. He had travelled across the whole country with Al, from the harsh and freezing North City to the scorching tropical heat that reached unbelievable temperatures in the South, from East City to the wild west. But this train definitely looked better than other ones like it – and _certainly_ better than the train he and Mustang had taken on the journey to Creta.

He clicked his tongue approvingly at the fancy carpets and decor that had covered the compartments of the Hogwarts Express. Yes, wizards may have been messed up, but at least they had a decent sense of style. It was definitely better than most trains he had travelled in - and he knew. He and Al travelled on different types of trains all the time. His most memorable recent one... the time when he had experienced a group of terrorists hijacking the train he had been on. He remembered fighting Bald with the black eye-patch, the water pipe that had washed them all out. Ed smiled to himself. He wondered whether any of the people in magic land had experienced something similar to what he had done.

Ed walked through numerous apartments, until noticing a compartment completely empty of people, and took his seat and sighed. At least the ride would be quite enjoyable, at least. To his surprise, the door straight to his left opened, and in ran Granger and Weasley, now both donning their black robes with red ties, as well as their shiny red prefect badges. They stopped once they saw him.

"Hey, Elric," Ron grinned, as he pointed to his prefect badge. "We're going to go the Prefects' carriage to get some instructions."

Hermione pointed to the door behind her. "If you're looking, Harry's just three or four compartments from here. He's a little lonely, so it'd be nice if you join him."

"I will go," Ed nodded, but as Ron and Hermione exited the compartment, the door closing behind them, he sighed. He had no intention of interacting with more wizards. All he wanted to do was be alone. He watched as the door swung open again, and three more pairs donning blue, yellow and green entered and exited the compartment promptly, not bothering to spare a glance at Edward. He didn't bother though. In fact, Edward ilked it that way.

The train gave its final whistle, and Ed glanced outside, noticing parents distributed almost evenly acrosss Platform 9 3/4, saying their final farewells to their beloved progeny. The train began to slowly move, and before Ed could realise it, the Hogwarts Express was gaining speed, and they had began speeding through the Muggle landscape.

Time passed, maybe an hour or two, and no-one had entered Edward's compartment for a while. The Fullmetal Alchemist enjoyed this precious period of solitude, reading books on alchemy, thinking about Hogwarts, and contemplating on Amestris, Roy Mustang and Alphonse.

He had just received Alphonse's letter the day before. That night, when he couldn't sleep, he stayed up until two in the morning writing back to him. He didn't mention too much, though. Why burden Al with _his_ problems? Al would be worried for him all for nothing. Whether he would mention the event from last night... Ed had given it some think. He decided against it.

God, last night... _damn._ He couldn't believe that he had exposed himself to those wizards, his greatest fear. - though it had been a small group of them, Ed shuddered at the thought as he remembered Potter and the wizards looking at him, shaking and terrified. The memory of Nina Tucker and her fate made him scared and depressed, but the result of his human transmutation truly intimidated and frightened him. The memory of the day they attempted to bring their mother back from the dead. The memory of the day he and his brother's lives were changed forever. The day that he had condemned Alphonse to an empty shell of armour that couldn't touch or feel. It was all his damn fault.

It wasn't just the _thing_ that had scared him. It was the fact that it had brought back the memories that had terrified him to a core.

He didn't sleep well the night he had seen it - the _Boggart,_ Harry had called it. His mother and brother appeared in his dreams... the day they had performed human transmutation had come and turned the dream into a _nightmare..._ and somehow, Nina had made her way into his dreams too...

Ed had felt lucky Mustang had already left for Hogwarts. He woke up right in the middle of the night in distress. Maybe it would be good if he caught up on sleep on the train. Yes, that would be good... he closed his eyes...

The door had opened, and Ed sat up suddenly. A nice-looking lady with a kind smile had entered, with a small food trolley. "Anything from the trolley, dear? Pumpkin Pasty? Chocolate Frogs?"

 _Food. That was a good idea. At least the wizards had food._ But what Ed had now learned was that the food and sweets he had seen on the trolley were nothing like he had ever seen before - and the first sign of this was by noticing the labels. 'Pumpkin Pasties', 'Drooble's Best Blowing Gum', 'Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans', 'Chocolate Frogs', 'Cauldron Cakes', 'Liquorice Wands'... the list continued to go on. Nevertheless, they had all looked delicious.

Ed opened his trunk for money. Thank God, the Ministry of Magic had agreed to fund Ed and Mustang with enough money for books and robes, as well as some extra money for their own personal pleasure to spend.

This was one of the very few times you had to thank politics. They helped you gain access to food.

Two bags of magic money lay shoved into his trunk. He took them out, but was extremely confused. _Another thing about these stupid wizards... their currency is different from their own country's... shit._ He almost wanted to bring out his own Amestrian cenz and shove them in front of the woman.

Luckily, the trolley lady was nice. She had explained the three different coins - Galleon, Sickle and Knut (Ed had to roll his eyes again at the ridiculous names), and the way the currency worked - "Seventeen Sickles to a Galleon, twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, dear, that's how it works" - and he had ended up purchasing a little of everything for a taste test. The Chocolate Frogs had been delicious, but it had taken a long while for Ed to catch it _(what the hell, you magic people,_ Ed thought angrily. _Magic frogs that can fly)_ , and he had gathered cards on several wizards (which he had quickly stuffed into his pocket. The cards had reminded Ed of those trading cards for children back in Amestris, with make-believe creatures on them, that had several different powers and life points. With them, children had make-believe card battles with them, and traded them for others). Drooble's Best Blowing Gum had been a great bother to Ed - a very _sweet_ bother, as he had blown a large bubble that refused to pop until Ed did it himself with alchemy. He continued on to try the different cakes and pasties, but Ed was happiest with the Every-Flavour Beans, despite the trolley lady warning him, saying that it literally meant _every_ flavour.

 _What the fucking hell, wizards._ Ed knew, as he popped a blueberry-flavoured Every-Flavour bean in his mouth, that was a line he would be repeating throughout the year. Luckily, for this situation, it had been a good reason.

When Ed had finished the last of the food he wanted, then stored the rest for later, the door opened again, and Ed expected the prefects to come right through. Instead, a group of wizards clad in black robes, in _green,_ came in and took their seats in the compartment unannounced, which annoyed Ed. _Why the fuck are you here? Go away._

The boy who had seemed to be the leader of the group was someone that Ed guessed hadn't to be older than him. He had neat, sleek blonde hair (basically the exact opposite of Harry's own hair), lighter than Ed's own blonde hair colour, and ice grey eyes. He was tall and slender, with a pale, pointed face. Just like the rest of his group, he sported a green tie - contrary to Ron and Hermione's scarlet red - and on his chest was a green and silver badge, sparkling in the sunlight shining from outside. However, instead of a lion, Ed noticed a serpent.

His companions were only two of them - much like Harry, Ron and Hermione. However, their appearances were definitely different to them. One of them was large and very fat, with a thick neck and a flat nose, with a close-trimmed bowl haircut. The other was not as large as the first, and he had small dull eyes, but large gorilla arms like the first one, and short bristly hair. It surprised Ed a little to see the pale-faced boy have friends like those two; the two tag-a-longs reminded Ed of the stereotypical bully type, the type of person that enjoyed beating up smaller children for the fun of it. _They don't even look like friends... they look like minions come to do their master's evil bidding..._ Ed thought.

Just as Ed observed the pale-faced boy, he seemed to study Ed back as well. Then, he spoke. It was a slow drawl. "You look like my age," he said. "Though I've never quite seen you before."

Raising an eyebrow, Ed replied, "I have not seen you before too."

"Your accent is very thick," he noted. "Where are you from?"

 _Should I tell him? Shit, should I tell him_ _? If this is to improve relations with Britain, people are bound to know about Amestris and alchemy sooner or later._ He sighed, then replied: "Amestris..." _Now, can you go away? I'd like to be alone,_ Ed thought in annoyance. _Nosy wizards._

"Oh! That's a country far from here..." he looked at Edward, his cold, grey eyes facing Ed's golden, fiery ones. "You can't be what I'm thinking, aren't you? You're the alchemist sent from Amestris. The Ministry asked you here as an exchange student, didn't they? I should know. My father has lots of ties in the Ministry. In fact, the Malfoy family has had good friendship with the Ministry for hundreds of years, working side by side." He held out his hand. "That's who I am, by the way. _Draco Malfoy._ A pleasure to meet you. And these two..." he waved his hand behind him, to his two friends. "Crabbe and Goyle."

Ed hesitated, then reluctantly, he took it. "Edward Elric. I will be attending your five..." he thought of the correct English word in his head. _"Fifth_ year at Hogwarts. Exchange student."

"What house will you be in?" Draco Malfoy further queried. He glanced at Ed's red trench coat and wrinkled his nose. _Seriously, what's wrong with my coat? It's red! It gets the blood going... and it's cool!_ Ed thought. "Please tell me what you're wearing is just Muggle clothing. Are you going to be in Gryffindor?"

 _Gryffindor? What?!_ _What the hell is Gryffindor?_ "I... just... just _Muggle_ clothes." The term for non-magical peoples sounded strange in his mouth. Was that the first time Ed had said it out loud? "I don't know house."

"Everyone thinks _Gryffindor_ is the best, those big-headed, stuck-up _prats,"_ Malfoy said spitefully. "Just 'cause Dumbledore and precious Harry Potter are in it."

Ed thought of Gryffindor as a sporting house like back in _normal_ schools, and it had made sense - his theory of sporting houses; there were four colours - four houses. Dumbledore was the Headmaster, wasn't he? And Harry Potter... was in this house as well? Then again, he had seen the bespectacled boy sport a red tie. The pale-faced boy - Malfoy - and his two lackeys had green. Ed remembered seeing blue and yellow ties as well. _Gryffindor..._ that must be the red house. Draco Malfoy and his friends were in green. The spite in his voice for Dumbledore and Potter... Ed remembered how those two were the ones that claimed the authenticity of the fact Voldemort had returned. Rumours on the street, the slander in the newspaper... _no wonder, Potter and Dumbledore have become the two most disliked people in magic land._

"You should be in Slytherin," Malfoy further pressed, pointing at his green prefect badge. "It's the best house, and we have the best teacher, Snape."

 _Snape..._ the Potions teacher, the one that had been mentioned around the time Ron and Hermione had received prefect badges. _Slytherin..._ that had yet to be another of the four houses. Ed made a mental note of this. _Gryffindor = red. Slytherin = green. ? = yellow. ? = blue._ He figured he would find out the names of the two remaining houses once he got to Hogwarts.

"Sounds interesting," Ed nodded quietly.

The door opened again, and Ed was thinking of moving to another compartment if more and more people wanted to sit down and talk with him, and to his surprise, it had been Ron and Hermione. They both waved a hand to Ed, but Ed noticed their frowns when they saw Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Weasel, Mudblood," Malfoy spat back, which surprised Ed. They were Harry's friends... but then again, if Harry was being hated throughout the whole community... but it would be damn stupid to hate them because of their relationship with Harry... and what was _Mudblood?_ Ed understood Ron being called _Weasel..._ but Mudblood? Despite it being used as an offensive term, Ed felt like he had to ask them later on what the term meant.

"Don't you call her-" Ron stepped forward, but Hermione held him back. "No, don't, you're a prefect, be _better_ than _this-"_

"Yes," Malfoy drawled. "We wouldn't want the blood traitor losing his baby badge, not even a day into Hogwarts."

 _Blood traitor._ Another offensive term, another term that was added to Ed's mental list of _stupid terms made by the stupid wizards that he needed to ask the stupid wizards about._

"Elric, let's go," Ron said, and pointed his head towards the door. "We'll take you to Harry. We're patrolling corridors, anyway, something that _Malfoy_ isn't doing. Why the hell Malfoy ended up talking to you, I have no idea-"

"You _know_ them two?" Malfoy asked Ed, eyes widened a little. "Why would you want to be hanging out with riff-raff like them?"

"I thought you didn't like Muggles," Hermione said coldly. "Edward here is a Muggle."

"You're a _Mudblood._ That's worse," Malfoy shot back. "Besides, he's an _alchemist._ That's different." Then he turned to Ed. "Edward Elric... that's your name, right? Why spend all your time with this rabble when you could have the time of your life with us? You'll be here for the rest of the school year to improve diplomatic relations with our countries, right? Spend some time with us and the Slytherins. It'd be a good first obstacle when you have to choose your friends wisely. One wrong choice, and you'll be regretting it for the rest of your time here." He held out his hand again, smiling thinly.

Ed stared at the outreached hand, then back at Ron and Hermione. He did this two more times, then: "You're right, Malfoy."

Ron and Hermione gave collective gasps of shock, and Ron looked murderous as he bit his lip, obviously trying not to burst out in a rage and fling curses at them. Malfoy smirked, then waved the other two away with his hand in a shooing gesture. "C'mon, Elric, there's a lot to teach you about Hogwarts, I'll tell you all about-"

"I will be going with them." Ed pointed at Ron and Hermione, who had once been looking shocked, angry and worried, now their expressions turning into ones of confusion. "You are very right in your saying, Malfoy. Choose friends wisely. If I do not choose friend wisely, I will regret decision. If I become friend of you, I will regret it."

Ed felt proud in what he was saying. He was always a fan of dramatic statements. During his many more dangerous adventures in Amestris, he had plenty of good ones that had figuratively stabbed the enemy like a pointed dagger at his chest. Alphonse always said it was unnecessary, sometimes even plain embarrassing. Mustang would always scoff and say his dramatic statements weren't dramatic at all - just stupid little words he had babbled out, then begin fighting the enemy with his _own_ dramatic statement, use his Flame Alchemy gloves and incinerate the opponent. _I will be going with them._ He couldn't help but smirk at his own statement. It was almost as good as the one that he had said back at Liore, after removing his red trench coat and revealing his metal arm.

Malfoy, on the other hand, after a few seconds of disbelief and surprise, made a large frown and turned into a surly expression. "You don't know what you're doing, Elric," he said.

"Am not stupid," Ed said, shaking his head furiously, hoping to prove his point. "Am not short, either. My choice too. Not your choice. Not anyone's choice. _Mine."_

"Well said, Elric," Ron said, grinning evilly at Malfoy and his two lackeys, Crabbe and Goyle. "We'll take you to Harry's compartment; it's on the way."

Ed nodded and took his trunk; as he left the compartment with Ron and Hermione, he heard Malfoy's voice as parting: "You'll be back. I'll make sure you do."

He had just realised that he may have possibly made a new enemy, and they weren't even on Hogwarts grounds yet.

* * *

Despite Ron and Hermione not being able to join him on the ride to Hogwarts, Harry had felt a lot better than what he had expected.

Sitting with Neville, Ginny and his newfound Ravenclaw friend Luna Lovegood and her strange magazine _The Quibbler_ had been reasonably fun enough. Harry had seen Neville's new plant, _Mimbulus mimbletonia_ or whatever it had been called, and had experienced its slime first-hand, sadly at the wrong time... it had been embarrassing for Cho to see Harry in that state, covered in thick Stinksap. He had also taken a look at Luna's magazine, with the fact that Sirius Black could be a famous singer called 'Stubby Boardman' amusing him to no end, as well as the other outrageous (and possibly quite controversial and disputable) topics and articles.

The whole group had been busy talking to one another and, to Harry's great pleasure, Ron and Hermione had stepped into Harry's compartment after what seemed like an eternity; and to Harry's less great pleasure, and a little confusion, they were both followed by Elric, who had one hand in his pocket and the other slinging his trunk over his shoulder. He seemed to be staring at the floor, not bothering with any other surroundings around him.

When Elric had finally looked up, Harry nodded at him, and Ed nodded back. However, it was hard to see his expression. Who _could_ see his expression anyway behind those large bangs of his. Ginny waved slightly to Elric, who nodded at her too. Neville, however, was staring at Elric thoughtfully, while gripping Trevor even more tightly in his pudgy fists to ensure the prevent of his escape; and Luna had lowered her glasses and raised her head from the magazine, obviously studying Elric, as if he were some type of new specimen for the Quibbler.

"Care to join us?" Neville braved a small little smile at Elric, and patted a small spot between him and Harry. "We didn't know you were going to come..."

"We just came to drop him off," Ron smirked and pointed to Elric. "We're just patrolling corridors anyway, it's not that bad at all."

Ron and Hermione continued to inform Harry of the new prefects for the other three houses - Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott for Hufflepuff, Padma Patil and Anthony Goldstein for Ravenclaw. To Harry's distaste, but not too much of a surprise, his worst fears were confirmed when he had found out that _Malfoy_ had become prefect for Slytherin. Hermione added in, saying that the girl fifth-year prefect was Pansy Parkinson with great disgust, calling her a 'complete _cow.'_

 _Dumbledore gets to choose the prefects each year, doesn't he? So if he chose people like Malfoy and Parkinson to be prefects, then why not me?_ Harry thought bitterly. He tried to shake it off, but the feeling would not just leave him. Yes, he knew it was selfish to think like that. The Headmaster must have had his reasons. But didn't Dumbledore _know_ about what achievements he had accomplished, just at the age of fifteen? Defeated Quirrell and Voldemort at eleven, defeated Tom Riddle and the Basilisk at twelve, warded off Dementors and saved Lupin and Sirius at thirteen, and faced Voldemort in the graveyard at age fourteen? Didn't Dumbledore at least _take that_ into account?

His thought dissipated into nothing, and he was shaken back to the real world when Neville asked, pointing at Elric, "Not to be rude or mean, but who _are_ you? It's just that I've never seen you before."

Ed nodded, the same way he had nodded at Harry and at Ginny. "Never see me before," he said. "Here at Hogwarts for one year. To study. Ex... exchange student... I think exchange is right word. Here, for... working. Studying. Pol... Politics."

"Politics?" Neville looked confused at that word. Wishing to steer Neville away from that topic - and he was not sure why, for that would be possibly explained at the Hogwarts feast that night anyway - Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Luna had beat him to it.

"One year? Exchange student? That's nice. Where are you from, though? You seem to have come from a very long way. Your accent and way of talking show that you're a foreigner," Luna said in her dreamy voice.

"From Amestris," Elric replied. Harry noticed him hesitating to let out his hand for a shake, and after a few moments, finally brought out his gloved left hand. "Edward Elric."

"I'm Luna Lovegood," she smiled even more, taking it.

"She's in my year, the fourth, but she's in Ravenclaw."

"Wit beyond measure, is man's greatest treasure," she sang. Ed raised an eyebrow at this. "Ravenclaw? What is Ravenclaw?" he asked in a strangely quiet voice.

"One of our houses," Hermione explained patiently. "Gryffindor is the one everyone except for Luna are in. There's Hufflepuff - the yellow house, Ravenclaw with the blue, and Slytherin - they're green."

Elric muttered something inaudible, but attempting to catch it, Harry knew it was in English. He had not been able to hear what the young Amestrian had said, but Harry had become very sure that he had mentioned _Slytherin_ in his words. He wondered what that had been about.

There was silence for a short period of time, then Neville nervously held out his hand for Elric to shake, keeping Trevor tight in his other one. "And I - I'm Neville Longbottom," he said in a little of a shaky voice. "I'm pleased to meet you."

"And me, you," Elric and Neville both shook hands, then Neville smiled. "So you're from Amestris, aren't you? I've heard a little about the place, but it's very far away. I've never been."

"It's a country that uses alchemy from the earth's energy, instead of magic," Luna piped up simply. Everyone turned to look at her, as she said: "It's quite a corrupt country. The war they had back a few years ago - the Ishval War - began because of an underground anti-government group that wanted to take Amestris down from the inside. It was founded because an alchemist from the East and an alchemist from the West had a large battle, trying to say which alchemy was best to use for the land. The winner founded Amestris. They've been jinxed with bloody battles and riots and violent civil wars ever since. That's what Amestris is known for." She tapped her magazine. "I learned it from the Quibbler."

Harry frowned. He did not mind about the information about Amestris' founding, because he was almost sure that would have been absolute rubbish. _A war? Ishval War?_ Luna had said that Amestris was riddled with 'bloody battles and riots and violent civil wars' throughout its history. Harry suspected the truth in that fact. Without Elric noticing, Harry took a quick glance at him. Elric worked for the military, didn't he? Did he have to fight in the Ishval War? Heck, did he have to fight in any war as a soldier?

"Don't listen to Luna, Edward," Ginny said slowly. "She might not be saying things that are, well, no offence, Luna - one hundred percent true."

"Yes, so please don't get offended," Hermione added.

"It's true!" Luna protested indignantly, and as she was about to open her mouth again, possibly for another argument or to spout out another far-fetched fact she knew about the country, then Elric raised up his hand and said, in a quiet voice, "Ishval War is real. Plenty of wars in Amestris."

Neville and Hermione gave small little gasps of shock. This made Harry all the more think even _more_ thoughtfully: _So, did Elric fight in any of those wars? I have to ask him next time, somewhere more private..._

"Sorry," Ginny quickly said. "Luna didn't mean to upset you. She's just like that."

"Sorry," Luna repeated, sounding genuine as she spoke the word.

Elric shook his head, and said, "Is fine. You no make me upset. I am fine." To prove his point, he made a small smile at Luna. Happy that she had not hurt her new acquaintance, Luna smiled uncertainly back.

"You'll be here for the rest of the year?" she said. "At Hogwarts?"

"At Hogwarts," Elric nodded.

"You'll have plenty of fun there," Neville promised. "I mean, the teachers may be a little strict, some may be a bit mean, like Snape, for instance-"

"What do you have ill to say about our beloved Head of House, Longbottom?"

Harry frowned angrily and made a scathing noise as he noticed Malfoy and his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, stroll into the fray, as carefree as the clouds outside. The rest of the group, bar Hermione and Elric, did the same - but something that had bothered Harry was that Malfoy and Elric had locked eyes for a few seconds, expressions unreadable, but it had seemed like they had already known each other. Or at least met.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Malfoy?" Harry said angrily, not caring about the curse word he had just thrown in.

"Remember your _manners,_ Potter, and watch your mouth, too, or else I'll have you thrown into detention. And not even on the first day... oh, what a pity." He pointed to his chest, and to confirm Harry's worst fears even more, a green and silver badge with a serpent and a large 'P' in the middle sat neatly and proudly upon his chest. "I, unlike you, have been made a _prefect,_ which means I, unlike you, have the power and authority to hand out punishments."

 _It's not even too MUCH authority, anyway..._ Harry thought angrily. "Well, you see, you, unlike me, are a _git,_ so get out and stay out, and leave us alone."

Harry smiled at the laughter he had caused when he had said that. Crabbe and Goyle grunted, and Malfoy scowled even more. To Harry's surprise, he replied back with a small _clue_ that may or may not have meant that he had knew about Sirius wanting to see them off at King's Cross. It shocked him, but he had no time to think about it when Malfoy glanced at Elric, and said, "You know, this is your last chance to hang out with us. Enjoy a _real_ experience of Hogwarts - ditch the little baby cubs and join _us."_

"I'm in Ravenclaw!" Luna protested.

Malfoy ignored her, and looked at Elric. "Well?"

There was silence in the carriage, as everyone turned to look at the young Amestrian. He lowered his head, pondering thoughtfully, then looked up. "I thought I said I pick friend already. Why come back to ask again? No point."

Malfoy's lip curled, and his scowl deepened. "You're making the wrong choice here, Elric. You can fix that. Join us."

"You are deaf, you cannot hear?" Elric said. "Well... I think word in English for... I think... fuck off," he finished simply, and Ron, Ginny, Neville, Harry and Hermione burst into laughter. Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward, angry, and Ed looked back at them innocently. "What? I heard that words _fuck off_ is also another way to make people go away. Is that right?"

The three Slytherins glanced at each other, and one by one, they exited the compartment. Smirking at Elric, Ron pat him on the back. "Way to go, mate!"

Hermione, despite her laughter, now frowned and shook her head. "This is bad, though!" she said. "What if Malfoy gives Edward detention?"

"Nah, I doubt that," Ron replied, still smirking. "Besides, he's all the 'foreign new student', they'll forgive him."

Ed nodded simply. Hermione checked her watch, and said, "OH!" She pat Ron's shoulder. "We've stayed here too long, we have to patrol the rest of the corridors of prefects." Ignoring Ron's protests, she grabbed his arm with one hand, and waved to Harry and the rest of the group. "Bye, Harry! We'll catch up with you later!"

When they had gone, Elric yawned, and said, "You have food?"

Harry stared down at the wrappers. "No, not really... Sorry, Elric."

"Do not worry. I have food. Who want?" Elric reached for his trunk and brought out a small bag of sweets, and for the next half hour, the whole group spent their time feeding on the rest of Elric's food.

As the day turned to dusk, the whole group had decided to change. Thank goodness, Ginny and Luna had prudently decided to exit the room to let the boys change in peace. Elric had taken out his Gryffindor Hogwarts robe, but had not worn it. Instead, it stayed on his lap while he stared at the floor.

"Hey, Elric, aren't you going to wear your Hogwarts robes?" Neville asked, stuffing Trevor in his robe pocket. He noticed the red on the robe and grinned. "Wow! You'll be in Gryffindor, like us for the rest of the year? That's cool!"

Elric simply nodded. He shook his head, said quietly "Later", then stored it back in his trunk.

"C'mon, Elric, if you want us to turn away just tell us," Harry said. "We get in trouble if we don't wear uniform."

"Later," he repeated, and both Harry and Neville gave up on trying.

The train slowly came to a stop, and Harry, now reunited with Ron and Hermione, and with Neville, Luna, Ginny and Elric, left the station with the rest of the Hogwarts students. As they left the station, Harry noticed caught several students, both young and old, staring at him; they whispered quietly at each other, most definitely some scandalous gossip about how he had spread 'lies' about Voldemort's return. He ignored them.

"Where now?" Elric whispered.

"The coaches," Harry replied. "They'll fly us to Hogwarts."

He heard Elric mutter a few words in Amestrian, which Harry suspected was all about the fact the stagecoaches could fly. He noticed Harry looking at him, and shook his head.

"Hogwarts will be good, I hope."

"You'll love it," Harry said, and for the first time in his life, he was shocked to see that the sentence he had just spoke had lacked conviction.

* * *

 _And that concludes Chapter 6._

 _Thank you for your support. Reviews and constructive criticism welcome._


	7. Chapter 7

He knew, he _knew_ he was going to be in for some serious shit when he saw the horses.

Ed grimaced at the horses. If someone had told him that these horses were the result of the bastard Shou Tucker's dreaded chimeric experiments, then Ed would've believed them with no doubt. They looked like a sinister mix of horse and some reptilian lizard - they had a sleek but thin and skeletal physique, and dragon-like faces. Large black leathery wings sprouted from their backs, and Ed had to wonder if this horse - if he could call it a _horse -_ was some mutated form of a unicorn or winged pegasus (if magic was real, then why not these creatures? Ed thought that was reasonable justification). Like normal horses, their large manes swung around in the air, but besides the mane, Ed wondered if they were related to horses at all.

He was not scared of the 'horses', but they had sent a small shiver up his spine. It was like something out of a nightmare, or horses just emerged from the flames of hell. Ed glanced around; the other students did not seem bothered by these 'horses' at all, simply just stepping into the stagecoaches without a care in the world, talking about whatever. His curiosity got the better of him. He lightly tapped Ron's shoulder, and pointing at the 'horses', and asked: "What... those things? Look like horse."

"Horse?" Ron looked around. "Where?"

"You not see it?" Ed directed Ron's gaze to where he was pointing, at those monster 'horses', but he simply blinked in confusion, even squinting. "Mate, what the hell are you talking about...?"

Shaking his head, Ed replied, "No mind, no mind..." and he left Ron to Harry. He went to Hermione, who had said the same thing - she didn't know what he had been talking about. Ed cursed. Was his sight _that_ bad? If Mustang knew about this, he'd laugh his ass off. Was he going mad, though? He doubted that. He could see those horses clearly, as plain as day. They were there. So why weren't others seeing it?

"You're not going mad, you know," a dreamy voice behind Ed startled him. That strange girl, Lovegood, smiled at him. Her reply made Ed wonder if magic could read minds. "I can see them too."

"Horse... thing?" Ed pointed at them again, and she nodded. "I can see them. They're black, and skinny. Big wings. Very ugly, I say." She wrinkled her nose, then waved goodbye as she went over to Harry, and Ed heard that she had said the same things to him. _So only a few people can see them?_ Ed wondered. _Why? How? This is damn weird... But hell, does it explain how the coaches can fly... I didn't want to see some Cinderella coach fly by its own with magic._

Far back away, he could hear a feminine voice call up, "First-years here, please! First-years line up to me please! All first-years, please come over here!"

Despite not knowing too much about Hogwarts, Ed remembered he was supposed to be in fifth year. He was tempted to go follow the voice, however. What happened there?

He caught up with Harry and his friends, and boarded the coach with them. It rattled as it slowly took off. Despite the fact different students were in different carriages in the air, Ed could hear the happy chattering from outside. He didn't bother joining in the conversations the group had though, instead staring blankly outside the window. They mostly talked about this teacher named 'Hagrid', and Ed figured that the voice that he had heard calling for first-years was currently replacing the job for this Hagrid person.

The chatter still lingered in the air as they landed and exited the carriage, and Ed nodded approvingly of the large castle in front of him. Not even any structure back in Amestris could equal to the cone-shaped roofs of the towers that made up the castle. There were large rocks at the base, but the height, through Ed's calculations, looked as if it was seven storeys tall. The foundations looked extremely old - it had greatly reminded Ed of the medieval castles for royalty that he had read in history books, but despite its ancient age, it looked sturdy, and ready to stand for a thousand years more. But Ed shook his head at the pointy roofs. Too. Much. Pointy. Roofs. Did castles have _that_ much pointy roofs? If so, he didn't like it.

The hundreds, maybe thousands - Ed didn't know the exact number - headed towards the large doors of the castle, and he decided to move forward, lest he be trapped in the oncoming crowd. He ignored the glances of the different groups of students, in different colours of ties - red, blue, yellow and green, and some whispered to themselves, staring at Ed as he passed, but more at Harry, whispering almost menacingly, as if they had to put in some more dirt on him - some outrageous rumours and gossip, just like what some people - mostly those who were not in favour of the military back in Amestris - did at Ed and Al when they had found out they were working for the military at their ages, 'selling their souls to the devils', Ed had heard one say about him.

He quickly learned the place where they had entered was called the Entrance Hall (Ed nodded sarcastically at their creative choice of name), was ablaze with torches to his surprise, and there was now deathly silence - if not the occasional mutter or whisper - in the Hall except for the combined loud sound of footsteps. He raised his eyes at the four long tables spread along the Hall - for the four houses, he guessed. But he was extremely surprised, and wondered how every student would fit on the table comfortably. Ed did _not_ want to be squished, especially on his first day.

The ceiling was the same black-blue colour as the colour of the sky outside; if Ed hadn't looked closely, he would have never thought there was a ceiling at all. It was full of tiny dots that looked like stars. _Magic, maybe?_ Ed guessed mentally. After all, no-one, _no-one,_ would be able to do a masterpiece ceiling like that which resembled the real sky exactly... right?

He followed Harry and his friends - now just Harry, Hermione, Ron and Neville - and took his seat with them and the other red-tied students. He had stayed away from them at Grimmauld Place, but now, shit, he had to stay close to them for the body-guarding mission. _Damn it._ Some students swapped looks at Ed, then at each other, then began whispering, but Ed didn't care. He had seen too much of this to even bother. Out of boredom and curiosity, just like back at Grimmauld Place and the flying knife embedded on the dining table, he poked the candles floating midair above the table. They simply rushed away speedily, which made Ed smirk. He did this several more times to other candles, and he found it a little funny to do this as well. In the end, the other candles made sure to steer clear of Ed, which ended his little game.

Taking a moment to absorb in his surroundings, Ed widened his eyes at the _things._ They... no, they couldn't be. _GHOSTS?!_ Ed blinked - once, twice, three times, four - then concluded that they were real... ghosts, which were only supposed to exist in stories, wandering around through tables, floating through the fucking _walls,_ conversing normally to students, who acted as if this was a normal sight for them. He bit his lip and shook his head. He then moved his gaze towards somewhere else.

He glanced over at the table at the front, and he noticed a group of adults - Ed guessed they had to be teachers of the magic school - and he noticed Dumbledore - spectacles, beard, wand and all. There was also the black-haired and greasy-haired teacher in a black robe; Ed remembered him vaguely from his first day with the wizards and witches. The others he didn't know. He thought that he would know about them soon enough. But what caught the Fullmetal Alchemist's eye the most was the one sitting uncomfortably at the end of the table. His pointed hat was in front of him - of _course_ he wouldn't wear it. It was embarrassing. He wore plain black robes, and Ed could faintly see a small pen in his hand. Mustang looked so uneasy over there, Ed almost wanted to laugh out loud. Instead, he simply laughed in his head.

"Hey," Harry's voice was louder than the whispered conversations he'd just had with his friends so it made Ed jump, "That's the woman from my trial! The Ministry lady!" He pointed.

Following Potter's gaze, Ed glanced around and noticed a squat little woman with short and curly light brown hair, wearing clothes in all shades of pink under a cardigan, which clashed with the dark colours of the other teachers' robes, and the whole Hall in particular. He wrinkled his nose at her, but he wasn't entirely sure why. She looked fairly ugly - her face resembled one of a toad's. She only sat a few seats away from Mustang, yet she kept on sneaking glances at him. She was one of those stereotypical old aunties or grandma - but Ed wondered if anyone's aunt or grandma could look as ugly as her.

"Look," Ed heard a small girl point to the front, "the first-years are here."

Then there was silence. The chatter that had began from the stagecoaches (maybe even from the magic train, Ed thought) faded away, dissolved into nothing but silence. The reason was that a small group of young children in plain black robes had appeared, standing in a straight line, looking either shy, confident or scared as hell, Ed noticed. They were all lead by an old-looking woman who looked familiar - wasn't she the one who escorted Mustang out of Grimmauld Place and to Hogwarts? She carried a small stool, which was being sat on by a rather ancient hat that looked extremely old - maybe older than Mustang? Ed smiled at the thought. In her other hand, was a large roll of parchment.

Those near Ed looked like they could barely breathe as the stool was set down. What was going to happen next? The whole congregation, students and adults alike, turned their heads slowly towards the stool. Then slowly, the hat started to lift itself up, and begin to sing.

Ed simply stared.

A hat.

A _singing_ hat.

An _old, singing, fucking_ hat.

No.

 _No._

They could not be serious.

But there it was, in front of Ed's eyes.

A hat. Singing.

"In times of old when I was new,  
And Hogwarts barely started,  
The founders of our noble school  
Thought never to be parted..."

Ed listened carefully, and he heard lyrics of what most likely told the story of Hogwarts' history of the four founders: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff... that was all the four houses, wasn't it? - and their choices of students.

Then it took a darker turn - the story of how a fight had made Slytherin depart from the 'founders four', and the 'clash of friend on friend'. It warned the students of several things, Ed noted, telling the audience to be careful and cautious, and asking the school to unite together against 'external, deadly foes.' There was a large silence, and then the whole assembly turned silent for a few moments, then burst into applause. Whispers around Ed made him aware that the song that had been sung was usually not the norm for them.

Then the old-looking female teacher stepped up, and looked at the large piece of parchment she had held under her arm when she led the students in. She began to call names. The first had shuffled up, and placed the hat on his head, and after a short period of time, the hat had yelled "GRYFFINDOR!", gaining applause from the red house.

Ed noticed that the activity was repeated again and again; a name would be called, and a young child would come out of the line and sit down on the stool, placing the hat upon their head, and wait for any period of time, whether short or long, until either 'GRYFFINDOR', 'SLYTHERIN', 'HUFFLEPUFF' or 'RAVENCLAW' would be declared to them, which resulted in applause from the house the student was now a member of. He had gotten bored of this halfway; he even took a glance at Mustang, who had been paying attention to this until a few minutes ago, but now was struggling to keep his eyes open.

Finally, thank God, it was done, as the line became one person only who had gotten sorted to the yellow house, and Dumbledore stood up, stretching out his hands in welcome, a large warm smile on his face, and any whispers disappeared immediately.

"To our newcomers, welcome! To our old hands, welcome back! There will be some speeches and some newcomers we would like to introduce later, but not now. Now is a time of feasting and food! Let the feast begin!"

* * *

Ed ate at top speed, taking a little of everything, as he did with the candies and sweets on the train. He never _knew_ how hungry he was until he had seen the food magically appear on the tables, in front of the excitedly anticipating students. So far, his favourite had been chips, sausages and gravy with potatoes. The least would have to be the humbugs. It had been too much of a peppermint-y taste for him.

He was about to place lamb and pork chops onto his plate when he felt his left arm turn instantly cold, as if his arm had just been suddenly plunged in a bucket of freezing water, with temperatures below the human endurance amount. Ed turned to move his arm, and he noticed that a... _ghost_ from earlier had decided to join them.

"Oh, hello there," he bowed his head slightly, then sighed as he saw the meat and sauce on Ed's plate. "You must be enjoying your meal, good sir." He sighed sadly, and Ed looked at him. "Would you no like food, then?" He didn't care whether his English was acceptable or not. The... ghost simply looked at him, and sighed, still staring at the food. "Ah, well, you should already see that I'm a ghost. I'm dead. I can't eat. I haven't eaten for _centuries."_

Ed nodded, trying to ignore the fact that the ghost had called himself 'dead', and attempted to shove away the millions of other questions and thoughts instantly entering his mind. _Please... please go away..._ Despite moving his arm, being near the ghost felt really uncomfortable. It was as if the left side of his body at taken a trip to the Northern Briggs military fort wearing only thin apparel. The ghost idea made him uncomfortable as well. He tried not to wince as the ghost introduced himself as 'Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington', and held out his hand to shake, questioning Ed about why he had not donned the Hogwarts uniform. Hoping not to be rude, he took it as well as he could. Shaking hands with a ghost was something Ed didn't like. It was definitely something he wouldn't forget for a long fucking time. The ghost, Nicholas, then turned to talk with Harry and his friends, leaving Ed alone, and pleased.

He looked at the _ghost_ again, shivers creeping up his chest. No, he would not focus on _that..._ thing.

Mustang seemed to be doing better now, filling himself up with the food that had been presented in front of him. Teachers around him talked to him, but Ed was too far away to hear anything. He saw Mustang do a slight nod, then resume eating. _Boring._

After what seemed like an eternity, the plates and utensils and food were magically cleared away, simply disappeared in thin air, and Ed vaguely heard Hermione say, "They're going down to the house-elves. _Slave labour..."_ and Dumbledore had began to stand up again, clearing his throat and clapping his hands twice for silence.

"There, there!" he said. "I hope you all have had a fulfilling meal to satisfy those growling stomachs of yours. Before I announce the start-of-term notices, I would like to announce the newcomers coming this year.

"First, I would like to talk to you all about the country of Amestris." His glasses almost twinkled in the light, and Ed paid even more attention to his speech. "It is located a little far from here - close to Asia, but located a little south of Europe. It is known for its military prowess and _alchemy."_ To Ed's surprise, some students moved closer to hear more of what Dumbledore was going to say. "Amestris is a country full of alchemists, and it is known to most of the grown wizard community that Amestris' alchemists and governments are currently at uneasy relationships with each other. After the Triwizard Tournament, where we had stretched out to two other schools from two other countries, the Ministry-" Dumbledore looked behind him, and Ed noticed that his glance had been directed towards the ugly pink lady - "- and the Amestrian military parliament has decided to strengthen our relationships and improve them. Amestris has been so kind and willing to lend two of her top alchemists for Hogwarts for the duration of this school year."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Ginny with her friends gave Ed a look. It made him annoyed. _Stop looking at me... Don't look at me, for fuck's sake..._

Damn wizards.

"One of them will be Edward Elric, an alchemist attending Hogwarts' fifth year to learn about the education and our culture, as well as be a diplomatic to improve the standing between wizards and alchemists. Please stand up, Mr. Elric."

It made him annoyed, and he didn't want to, but one icy - no, fiery - stare from Mustang forced him to slowly stand up, and everyone from his table stared at him. No, it wasn't just his table. The whole _school_ stared at him as he stood - maybe a thousand people, maybe more - looked at him as he stood, but Ed didn't bother looking back. He simply stared at the flying candles. _Don't look at me..._ he thought desperately. _Come on..._ After a few more seconds, he allowed himself to sit down, but Ed suspected that just because he had sat down it meant the stares had stopped. Many stopped looking at him as he took his seat once again, but some still did, some craning their necks to look at him, some starting whispers in the crowd.

There was no point caring about it. _Damn._

"Our second alchemist will be a member of the Hogwarts staffing for the duration of this year. Mr. Roy Mustang will be here as an assistant to Defence Against the Dark Arts, teaching a little about alchemy as well. Mr. Mustang, please stand up."

Ed saw the Flame Alchemist shift a little in his seat, then like Ed, reluctantly stood. The young heads of the school turned to him, and he stood straight like a soldier should, and he gave his head a small incline, almost like a bow, then two nods. "Mr. Mustang will appear in your Defence classes as a fellow teacher, so please treat him like one for the remainder of the year," Dumbledore said. "Please give our two new guests respect and their own space, but also interact with them and befriend them. Thank you."

 _Interact?!_ That was the last thing Ed wanted - for even _more_ students to go up to them, talk to them, ask him for a tutorial in alchemy. No way in _hell_ was Ed going to do that. His mission was to body-guard Potter, and that was it. Keep him out of trouble. Not befriend people as he pleased. It irritated him. _What the hell, wizards. Damn you._ There was lukewarm applause for him and Mustang as Mustang took his seat, and the applause completely died as Dumbledore announced the next changes of staffing - a new teacher named Grubbly-Plank, who was to temporarily take over the position of the subject 'Care of Magical Creatures' (which seemed like a practical animal lesson, Ed thought, _maybe something Al would've liked_ ), and Umbridge, the new teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Ed turned to the pink ugly toad lady. _No way_ was she going to be a new teacher. _Damn._ He did not join the unenthusiastic applause that followed, simply grimacing at the beam the pink lady - Umbridge - was trying to give her students.

When the applause died a few moments later, Dumbledore continued talking about trials for this 'quidditch' shit. It seemed a lot like a team sport, how Dumbledore had said it, but whatever was going to happen next, or the next general announcement, the students never heard. Even the clearing of Umbridge's throat made Ed dislike her even more, but he wasn't sure why. It had been a habit of his. He wasn't sure if it was good or bad. She stood, and Dumbledore moved to the side, and began to talk.

One damn thing that made Ed dislike her even more was how Umbridge treated everyone as little children on their first day of kindergarten. Her voice was high-pitched and what some would call 'girlish'. She continued on to talk about the damn Ministry of Magic, and their 'care' for education here at Hogwarts. _Stupid show-off,_ Ed thought spitefully as she bowed to each and everyone of the teachers. She hesitated, however, with Mustang at the end, who gave a slight incline of his head. She continued talking, and Ed began to drift off to sleep, his paying attention to the speech drifting away, probably back to Amestris...

He snapped awake to the clapping of both the teachers and students, both unenthusiastic and diluted like the previous applause for Umbridge before. Dumbledore continued on with his speech, about trials for 'quidditch.' But whatever the heck did that pink toad lady mean? Ed wondered thoughtfully, despite he had gone to sleep, he had heard a few phrases that made him confused: 'perfecting whatever needs to be perfected', 'pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited.' _Well, that was stupid,_ Ed thought in distaste.

Suddenly, he heard Hermione speak louder than what she had during her previous conversations, her words answering the question Ed was thinking about: "The Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts."

* * *

Harry headed over to his dormitory, Neville and Elric following close behind. Elric. His _bodyguard._ It was "fucking depressing", as Ed had said a few weeks ago, on his first night back at Grimmauld Place. How would he bodyguard anyway? What would he do? Protect him from danger? Harry almost laughed. He was fully capable of protecting himself and his friends. He didn't need a bodyguard his age to do it all for him. Then again, he was working for the military. A soldier. So maybe his expertise in the field of battle was useful enough for Elric to tag along.

He waved at Dean Thomas, and turned to do the same at Seamus, but he simply kept on putting up posters for his bedside. Elric simply stared, then Harry pointed at the empty bed at the side. "I think that's yours," Harry said. "I dunno how that bed ended up there, it wasn't there the last four years I was here, it's most likely for you. I think those are your stuff on the bed-"

Elric simply nodded, then went to his new accommodation. He sat on his bed, then patted it, and Harry was sure this was to check its comfortableness. Dean watched him as he did so. Seamus had stopped putting up his posters of flying Quidditch players to stare at Elric, who looked up and frowned, clearly aware of the stares he was receiving. There was silence as Elric and the wizards took out their own things and personal objects to set up the beds they would be sleeping in for the next ten months.

Then Dean, thank God, went up to Elric, most probably to break the uneasy silence, and he waved. The Amestrian shifted uncomfortably as Dean smiled warmly at him and said, "Hi."

Elric mumbled something soft in response, then shook his head, cleared his throat, and said louder, but still fairly soft, with his thick accent: "Hello."

"Hey there. Edward Elric... right?" At his nod, Dean went on: "Welcome to Hogwarts. You'll love it here. It's great you chose this house, though. Gryffindor. The lions. The scarlet red and gold house. Great choice!"

Elric nodded, and Harry swore that he could hear the words, "Choice. Yes, yes, yes. Choice. My choice."

Dean and Seamus, however, did not seem to hear him, and Dean continued: "I guess, you went with him -" he pointed at Harry - " - so you know already that he's Harry Potter. Heck, I doubt you needed to even meet him to know his name. Well, I'm Dean Thomas. Fifth year. The guy over there is Seamus. Say hi, Seamus."

Seamus, for some reason refusing to meet Harry's eye, braved a small smile at Elric and waved, then resumed the making of his bed and the positioning of his posters. Then Elric suddenly stood, pyjamas on one arm, and muttered that he needed to use the restroom.

"So, you lot," Dean said, as he went back and resumed placing up West Ham posters by his bedside. "How was your holiday? Mine was fine. Hopefully it was better than Seamus here, he was just telling me," he said.

"Why, what happened?" Neville pressed on, stroking his _Mimbulus mimbletonia._

Seamus did not look at Harry. Instead, he completed his quest of putting up Quidditch posters and the mission of preparing his bed, and grabbed his pyjamas from his trunk. Finally, after a long silence, without looking at Harry, he said quietly, "Me mam didn't want me to come back to Hogwarts."

"Why?" Harry asked. To his surprise, and his oncoming anger, he realised that it had been because of _him._ The damned slander in the Daily Prophet, which Seamus' fucking mother believed. His heart began to pick up pace, like a runner in a marathon about to come first place, as he kept on explaining that his mother didn't like him, or the Headmaster, for that matter. Angrily, Harry kicked open his trunk, harshly through his pyjamas down on his bed, and stuffed his robes in his trunk with great force. He felt a sting on his knuckle, but his anger made sure that it meant little to him. _Why? WHY?!_ Why did no-one believe that Voldemort was back? Why did everyone believe the _lies_ the Ministry had told him about? It - _wasn't -_ fair.

Seamus was quiet, watching Harry thoughtfully as he did all this. "Well... look... you know..." he seemed to struggle to find the words. "What _really_ happened with Cedric Diggory and all, at the Tournament..."

Harry stopped. The next words he had said, they had simply slipped out of his mouth. He hadn't meant to, but his temper was creeping its way up his throat and towards his mouth. "Just read the Daily Prophet, won't you, just like mother. It shows the truth. Go back home and read it with your mother for bedtime."

Seamus stood from his bed. "Don't you dare insult my mother like that," he snapped.

"I'll do it to whoever calls me a liar."

It had quickly escalated into a heated fight, Harry insulting Seamus and his mother, releasing his anger out at him, and Harry was about to yell at him, like he had at Ron and Hermione back at Grimmauld Place, when Ron himself came in, eyebrows raised. "What's going on?"

Thank God, Ron was able to shut Seamus up, and Harry was thankful, for the first time, for the authority the prefect had. A final noise came from Seamus' mouth, one of spite and contempt and a little hate, and he placed himself on his bed, and harshly pulled the hangings shut - that was the last they heard from him for the rest of the night. He was also thankful that Neville stood up for him, and said that he and his grandmother believed in him and Dumbledore, even cancelling their subscription to the stinking Prophet. It made Harry a little pleased. At least he had someone outside of the Order who believed him and didn't call him some nutter or a liar.

Elric came in through the door, now wearing plain blue pyjamas, his black clothes and red trench coat slung over his arm, and said, "Heard shouting. Something bad?"

"No," Harry said, laying himself on the bed. "Just some people who think I'm mad. Some stinking lies people are believing. But other than that, no, nothing."

There was a small silence, and Dean, who had been nervously watching the whole event from his four-poster, sighed, and said, "Well, that was eventful, wasn't it? Let's call it a night."

* * *

Hermione was rapidly taking down notes on her roll of parchment as Professor Binns talked on and on about the giant wars that had greatly impacted the wizarding (and some Muggle) communities.

She had to admit, that yes, Binns' voice was a little of a monotonous, deadpan, (and maybe a _little_ soporific) drone, but that was no reason, she thought, no reason to disrespectfully not pay attention or fall asleep, which was what her friends, Harry and Ron, and basically the whole class, did. The sun shone from the windows, giving a warm temperature inside the classroom, and Hermione clicked her tongue disapprovingly at her peers as they either fell asleep or began to do other activities within five minutes. Besides, giant wars was an interesting topic. She thoroughly enjoyed learning about the two different sides, and the outcomes of each event.

She glanced at Edward, who had decided to sit in the very back corner, rather than go sit with her, Harry and Ron. His _History of Magic_ textbook was standing up, open on his table, but Hermione suspected that he was not doing any work or copying the textbook at all - after all, hiding himself and his leisure behind the textbook was something many students did out of sheer boredom in Binns' class. She wasn't able to see what Edward was exactly doing, especially because of the book and his long golden bangs, but she noticed the piece of parchment being written on, and a small book, maybe. Was he taking notes from another book on another subject? Hermione sighed.

When the three-quarters-of-an-hour-long period was finished, the whole class rushed out of the door. Hermione scolded her two friends for sleeping throughout the lesson. _I guess they'll never learn, both figuratively and literally,_ Hermione thought sadly, but that thought dissolved as Ron had called her 'cleverer' than they were.

The three headed out to the courtyard, being lightly sprinkled with a drizzle, meeting Cho Chang along the way.

"Where did Edward go?" Hermione said, then she dropped her voice volume so that no-one but the three of them could hear, "Isn't he your bodyguard? Shouldn't he be staying close to you?"

"I prefer my personal privacy not being invaded, thanks, Hermione," Harry said coldly. Then he sighed. "Besides, it's just the first day. Give him a damn break." The bell rang, and Hermione heard Ron and Harry groan; the next subject was Potions, with Professor Snape. Hermione may not have liked Snape's attitude towards the Gryffindors, especially towards Harry, and his show of favouritism towards the Slytherins, especially towards Harry, but Potions had been an interesting subject unto itself. Besides, it was an important subject for OWL. She couldn't fail it now.

"Sit down," Snape said softly, and she, Harry and Ron headed towards the back tables. She noticed Edward enter last... after the three people she disliked: Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. They seemed to be talking to him, Edward simply staring at him. Harry and Ron noticed this too.

 _"What_ the _hell_ is Elric doing with those sons of bitches?" Ron hissed, and Hermione glared.

"He doesn't seem to be so comfortable with them, though," Harry noted, and Hermione found out that he was right. He shifted uncomfortably, and as soon as they had all entered the classroom, he walked at a quicker speed, away from the Slytherins, and took his place next to Neville in the middle of the classroom. He had reached into his trunk and brought out his book 'Magical Drafts and Potions.' Silence had fallen in the dungeons, and it was if everyone had even stopped _breathing_ to avoid trouble from the Potions Master himself.

"I think a reminder to all before the commencing of this lesson," Snape said quietly, as he walked over to his desk. "As you all know, your Ordinary Wizarding Level exams are quickly approaching." Hermione's hand trembled, and she almost dropped her quill. "They will occur in June next year. It is a very important examination, where you will be tested on five years' worth of knowledge of the composition and use of several potions." One thing that Hermione noticed was that at the words _five years' worth of knowledge,_ just a few tables down, Edward froze stiff. Hermione could relate. OWL year was the worst year to be an exchange student. Especially when you knew almost nothing about anything in the magical world. Snape continued, saying that he had expected the whole population of the class to achieve at least an 'Acceptable' in his test, sneaking scary glares at Neville which made Hermione frown. She frowned even more when Snape looked at Harry, saying to the entire class that he would only accept the best of the best in his classes, and most, in Snape's words, "will certainly be saying goodbye."

He waved his wand, and instructions appeared on the board. Snape went on to explain that this OWL-level potion was called the Draught of Peace - Hermione was almost tempted to put up her hand to explain to the class that its purpose was to calm anxiety, soothe someone from panic and stress and pacify agitation. She sat up straighter, scanning the list on the blackboard, and listening with full attention to Snape's words. "You have an hour and a half... start."

The whole class stood, and Hermione looked up at the board as she took the ingredients she needed. _This is going to be a hard potion,_ she thought. _It's a good thing I read about it in our Potion book during the holidays. Powdered moonstone... syrup of hellebore... powdered porcupine quills, powdered unicorn horn..._

She noticed Edward looking around the ingredients, muttering something under his breath. Hermione, taking a glance at Snape, who had been staring at the Slytherins and praising their 'perfect preparation', and then guided Edward towards the correct ingredients. He muttered something softly in another language, his mother tongue, then whispered, "Thank you," then he quickly shuffled away. He seemed a little uncomfortable as he prepared the contents.

Hermione accurately measured the contents and quantities, in the correct order, she hoped, then mixed them. She wiped some perspiration off her brow - though she knew exactly what to do, it was still a complicated potion. A light silver vapour rose from her cauldron, and as Snape said that this was supposed to be happening to the potion, she mentally congratulated herself for following the instructions. She looked at Harry's. His cauldron was releasing large amounts of grey steam - _he forgot the hellebore,_ Hermione thought. Ron's wasn't any better - he was looking worried, and green sparks were spitting out. "Is this right? Is this supposed to happen?" he asked her in desperation, and then let out a string of curses that his mother wouldn't have approved of.

Now Snape was heading towards the Gryffindors. Hermione craned her head a little to take a glance at Edward's potion, where Snape was - a light silvery vapour was rising out of the air, but Snape simply clicked his tongue at Edward's potion disapprovingly.

"So, Mr. Edward Elric," he drawled, and some students stopped their potion-making to see whether Snape had good or bad words for him, "I see you are transitioning into Hogwarts well, I suppose? Try not to cause any... _trouble_ while you are attending this school. You would not be doing your country a favour by leaving a bad impression of it here, wouldn't it?" Edward, who had not been looking at Snape and instead on his own potion, simply nodded.

When Snape left his table, Hermione noticed that the potion had been too blue. She suspected too much moonstone.

She resisted her urge to shake her head angrily as Snape pointed out Harry's mistake in front of the whole class, and with a wave of his wand, the potion simply disappeared cleanly away, vanished into thin air as if Harry had not attempted to create the Draught of Peace at all. Harry bit back his lip - trying to keep back any insults or colourful words in front of Snape.

When the bell rang, and Snape had given them their homework (a twelve-inch essay on the properties of moonstone), the whole class cleared out of the dungeons, Gryffindor looking pleased. Harry, however, looked very angry.

"Zero marks?!" he spluttered when they had left the dungeons. "Neville's was worse than mine, yet he gave me _zero_ marks?!"

"Don't worry," Ron reassured. "Mine smelt horrible, I think I'll be getting a minus ten."

Harry sighed, looking at his timetable. "We have Divination next."

"See you, then," Hermione said, and gave a reassuring smile to Harry. "Don't worry about Snape. He just doesn't like you-"

"Well done, Sherlock-"

"- and you'll do perfectly fine in OWL, if you work hard."

She waved to Harry and Ron, and headed the other way to her first class of the year, of her favourite subject - Arithmancy.

* * *

Roy sighed as he flipped through his timetable.

Thank God, Dumbledore had given him plenty of free time for Mondays. It was good.

However, after the lunch hour, he was expected to be Umbridge's assistant for Defence Against the Dark Arts - fifth year, sixth year, and second.

 _Do I plan my lessons right now?_ Roy thought. _What do I teach them?_ He was probably going to teach alchemy, maybe. The basic laws. A little history. The definitions of significant terms and words used in alchemy. Heck, maybe even teach a little geography about Amestris. He placed his mug of hot tea down onto his office table. It had been very nice of Dumbledore to give him an office, albeit the smallest one - it had been the only one available.

He had almost spilled the tea onto the report he was going to send to Hawkeye once it was done. He had to hurry, the deadline was fast approaching - wait, hadn't the deadline passed already? By almost a week? - and he had only managed to write two paragraphs.

He hadn't seen too much of Fullmetal throughout the day. In fact, the last time he had seen the young alchemist was at last night's feast at the Gryffindor table, close to Potter, Weasley and Granger. Last night was uncomfortable, especially with Dumbledore asking him to sit with the teachers at the teachers' desk. Roy doubted that he was even a proper teacher. He was just a guest. An honorary guest at Hogwarts. For the military. For the Order. For the Ministry.

 _Fuck politics,_ Roy thought angrily. _When I'm Fuhrer, I won't be doing any of this to improve country relations. No-one needs to go anywhere. When I'm Fuhrer-_

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and Roy sat up straight immediately, as straight as his arm would be during a salute. Before he could open his mouth to say "Come in," the door opened, and... _Umbridge_ came in. He resisted the urge to make a noise of contempt. So far, Umbridge was the only teacher he really disliked. And he was stuck with working with her. For ten months. Roy didn't like it. He didn't like her, or her toad face, or her pink little squat self. Instead, he braved a smile, and said, "Professor Umbridge." Lucky he had been studying English, even more when he had arrived to Hogwarts. "What - what brings you here?"

"Hello, Roy," she smiled, and Roy tried not to grimace. She waved her stick - no, her _wand,_ and the chair in the corner flew towards her and she took the seat. "I've come to help plan m - _our_ lessons for Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Really?"

"Yes," she replied. "Planning is important. After all, the Ministry cares about education. We value it. It helps children achieve a brighter future. We value the truth. Education is the seeking of the truth. The Ministry values this, and aims to make sure that every young wizard and witch that steps into this castle deserves and receives a bright education for a better future."

 _Then why not first admit Voldemort is back?_ Roy thought spitefully, but he nodded, and shoved the thought at the back of his mind to contemplate over later. "What are your ideas, ma'am?"

"You must be thinking of introducing alchemy to the students, believing it could be useful. I agree," she said, and Roy raised an eyebrow. She dug into her pink handbag, then pulled out a dark blue book, with over-the-top fancy patterning over a gold title: _MAGICAL THEORY ON THE ART OF ALCHEMY._

"I've been thinking of adding this to the booklist," she said. "What do you think, Roy?"

Roy opened his mouth to object, but Umbridge continued on as if Roy had not even attempted to reply.

"That will be good."

* * *

 _Thank you for reading Chapter 7._


	8. Chapter 8

Edward was _not_ looking forward to Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson.

Shit, and it had just been the first fucking day. It wasn't that Mustang was a teacher in it - idiotic bastard as he was, Ed didn't mind - it was simply the fact that the teacher was going to be Umbridge. When he had entered the classroom, he noticed Umbridge already at her desk, piled with blue books,with Mustang beside her. He looked up and saw Ed, and they locked eyes and each gave a stiff nod. He took an empty seat, now just behind Potter's, and took out _Defensive Magical Theory._ The whole book had been extremely confusing, and Ed hadn't been able to understand most of the terms, not to mention reading new words he had never seen before in English.

He wished that he was still in the library, reading books like he had done while, according to Hermione, Harry and Ron attended 'Divination', and Hermione herself attending something that sounded strangely like 'arithmetic.'

When everyone had been seated, all flurry of chatter dissolved into nothing, and the toad woman herself smiled and held out her arms, as if in want of an embrace. _As if anyone would even want to embrace HER,_ Ed thought bitterly. "Good afternoon, class!"

Not anything but a few mumbles in reply.

It was clear to Edward that Umbridge didn't like that. It was also clear to him that she really _did_ treat fifteen year old youths as little children ten years younger. Her tone of voice was so happy and girlish that Ed was battling the urge to not use the gag reflex. Mustang seemed to have lost the battle, however. Behind Umbridge's back, he made a small gag that made some students chuckle. "That won't do, won't it? I'd like you all to say in a happy, cheerful tone, 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge!' After all, we will be engaging in a wonderfully exciting class. Let's do that one more time." She made a little throat clear ('hem, hem'), then said in a horribly merry voice, "Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," the whole class forcefully chirped in reply.

"I'd like you all to say 'good afternoon' also to Professor Mustang," she smiled even wider, and the whole class turned towards him, who braved a nervous smile and raised his hand in hello, and said good afternoon in his low, deep voice. Ed shuddered. He had almost expected the Flame Alchemist to ring out his greeting in a happy voice similar to Umbridge. The whole class said, "Good afternoon, Professor Mustang." Ed hadn't, but he was sure Umbridge hadn't noticed. Besides, Mustang being called a _Professor_ sounded very new and very strange to his ears and mind. The only time in Amestris that he had heard the word _Professor_ was for university teachers. Ed was used to _Mustang, Roy, Colonel Mustang, Flame Alchemist, Bastard,_ the like. _Professor_ would take quite a while to end up on that list.

The next thing Umbridge had asked them was to put their sticks away, and to take out their quills and parchment. Ed, not having a wand at all, simply took out his quill and parchment and placed it onto his desk. Umbridge did quite the opposite - she had pulled out her own stupid short stick and tapped it on the surface of the blackboard. _Lazy wizards,_ Ed thought. _What's wrong with getting a simple piece of chalk and writing on the board? Are they that lazy that they have to use their sticks to write a couple sentences?_

Words appeared immediately, and Ed read: **DEFENCE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS: A Return to Basic Principles.** Umbridge asked them to copy the heading at the top of their parchments (Ed had wondered if the idea of a notebook had reached the minds of wizards yet), and she continued on to say that the past teachings had been 'disrupted' and 'fragmented' - which meant nothing to Ed, and that they would have a proper 'Ministry-approved' education, revolving around theory and structure. She tapped on the board again, and with sloppy English writing, Ed copied down the three 'Course Aims'. It had been a little strange, using a feathered quill instead of a pen as he normally did - but it had not taken him long to master it. His writing with the quill in English was the same with writing with a pen - still sloppy and messy, with lines through the spelling mistakes. He wondered if he had spelled the words correctly, and he wondered whether there was a proper translation spell so that he could just simply write down everything in Amestrian.

Next, everybody had been asked to take out their copies of _Defensive Magical Theory_ , and then told to read Chapter One. He had read it already, however, and he didn't like it. His lip curled as he thought about how he had read it back at Grimmauld Place. "There will be no need to talk."

Ed put up his hand, to Mustang's surprise - he had widened his eyes at seeing Edward put his hand up, and about the same time, Hermione's hand was raised fixedly in the air. She had seemed to Ed as the stereotypical 'book nerd', yet her book was still shut. Umbridge had taken five minutes to look up at her class - she glanced at Hermione's hand, then turned to Ed. "What is it, Mr... Elric, isn't it? Do you have any issues?"

"Finished book," he said simply. Behind Umbridge, he saw Harry and Ron stop reading and look at him. Hermione had turned to look at him too, hand still in air, and the rest of the fifth-year Gryffindor class had craned their necks and ceased their focus on the book and turned it to him.

"Oh!" Ed almost wanted to grunt in annoyance at Umbridge's forced surprise. "That's good, Mr. Elric... maybe take down notes, or a brief summary of what you have learned - no, wait, I have a job for you." She pointed to her desk, and the several pile of books. "Mr. Elric, it would be _so_ kind of you to hand out those books to the children... I think you will find the book interesting."

Nodding, Ed stood, and noticed Hermione now trying to look at the books, hand still up in the air, obviously looking for a title on the books. He felt uncomfortable as the whole class watched him approach the desk, and now Mustang was looking thoughtfully at him, a small smile playing at his lips, but then frowning as Ed reached out for the books. He glanced at the title of the book, which made his eyebrows raise, and his eyes widen in confusion.

 _MAGICAL THEORY ON THE ART OF ALCHEMY._

He had simply no way to take this in. He gulped silently. _A book in magic land... all about... alchemy?!_ He knew Umbridge was watching him, drinking in his surprise and scepticism towards the book he had just been presented with. Ed's mind whirled with thoughts. He _had_ to tell Alphonse about this... could _this_ be the answer to his problems? Could it restore his brother's body? Could it give him back his arm and leg? He looked up at Mustang, who simply shrugged, his lip curling at the title of the book - but the rest of his face looked expressionless. It occurred to Ed that he probably didn't like the book. But... it was him, wasn't it? Mustang could have been the only person who set the book for the curriculum. Ed had thought that he'd have to empty the whole library in search of a proper book that at least mentioned alchemy on a single page. But there it was... in front of his fingertips, a book completely on alchemy.

The class was still watching him. Umbridge, finally, noticed this, and said, "Why are you all staring at Mr. Elric? It's very rude to stare, you know," she berated them cheerfully. "Now, all of you, please get back to work!"

Ed slowly took three books under his arm, then gave them out to the students in the front. He continued to hand all the books out in silence. As he reached Harry, Ron and Hermione's desk, he almost smiled about how Hermione had her arm still in the air after quite a long time. She looked down at the book that had been presented to her in wonder, and it was sure to Ed that she was becoming impatient for her question to be answered, just so she could read the book.

When he was done, Ed went straight back to his seat with his own copy of _Magical Theory on the Art of Alchemy,_ ready to open the book.

Sadly, Umbridge, that _toad,_ looked up at the right time and stopped him. "Not now, Mr. Elric," she said, in that sweetly horrible voice. "I know how excited you are to read the book, but please save your excitement for later. The first chapter to read will be for homework. Now, please, return to _Defensive Magical Theory_ and re-read the book."

He grunted softly, and placed the alchemy book down next to his desk, and reluctantly took out _Defensive Magical Theory._ What was the point, Ed thought angrily, of reading a book full of incomprehensible bullshit? He took out a quill and parchment, and opened up Chapter 1, pretending to take notes.

This had gone on for ten more minutes, until Umbridge had said, "Did you want to ask something related to the chapter, dear?" Ed realised that she could only be referring to ,Hermione - Ed had admired and congratulated Granger on that attempt to gain the teacher's attention - it had almost been half the period she had kept her hand up. But the time it had taken for Umbridge to answer made Ed sure that she had been avoiding her on purpose. He looked around, and saw that half the class were staring at her, and he understood that this was why she had finally acknowledged her.

Umbridge seemed to regret this, though, as Hermione began to contradict the book and her way of teaching the class. Ed had agreed with some part of it, though; he had been told Defence Against the Dark Arts was going to involve a fair amount of practical activity, especially during exam year, but Umbridge had simply waved down the comment by saying that through thoroughly studying the theory, there would be no need for any practical work.

Maybe that was why he didn't enjoy the book. While his brother was a gentle boy who loved theory, Ed was one who didn't believe until he saw and preferred practicality.

It wasn't long until it had become a battle of words between Hermione and Umbridge, and then Harry and the boy called Dean Thomas - his dorm-mate - joined in, with some little put-ins by a girl who had called herself Parvati Patil, and some outbursts from Ron. Ed had said nothing. He was sure that his face looked expressionless as he simply listened to Harry's splutters and protests, and Umbridge's retaliation with taking away 'ten points' from Gryffindor, and her anti-Voldemort speech. Mustang had looked similar, but he had nodded slightly when Harry had questioned Umbridge about not preparing the students for 'what was waiting for them' out in the outside world. "It is _not_ a lie!" Harry bellowed. "I saw him, I fought him!"

"DETENTION, MR. POTTER!" Ed could swear that he could hear the triumphant enthusiasm in her voice, a voice that sounded a lot like what someone would sound like if she had won a war, which, technically justifying, she _did -_ "Tomorrow evening, five o'clock. My office. Voldemort is _back?_ She gave a shrill laugh, then went back to her normal tone of voice. "I repeat, _this is a lie._ If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with _fibs-"_ she emphasised the word 'fibs' - "about any reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it." Ed clicked his tongue in disgust as she had said the words "I am your friend." _Heck,_ he mused, _If Umbridge wants 'fibs', she just gave herself one._

What had disturbed Ed, however, was when Harry continued to talk about a boy named Cedric Diggory, and how he had been murdered by the Dark wizard himself. He wanted to curse.

As Harry was given a small note to send to some professor named McGonagall, Mustang was called to escort him to her office, and they both headed out the door.

"Now, all of you," she said sweetly and calmly, as if the previous events had not happened, "please return to your reading."

* * *

Harry bit his lips in anger, so hard he was sure they were going to bleed any moment.

Mustang simply walked alongside him, obviously his head in his own thoughts, then, as they were about to reach Professor McGonagall's office, he pulled Harry aside.

"You should be careful," he whispered softly, and Harry was surprised with how much his English had drastically improved from the time he had departed from Grimmauld Place. "You know that Umbridge doesn't mean any good, don't you?"

Harry was so surprised and angered by the Amestrian's words that he simply spluttered out what he had been thinking: "Any good? _Any good?!_ Didn't the Ministry ask you to come here in the first place?! It's like you're their _dog,_ or something!" Mustang wrinkled his nose at the word _dog,_ but Harry shook this off and continued: "You and Elric didn't even bother standing up for me or even have a fucking _say_ while we were arguing the damned toad bastard! Did Umbridge tell you to stay quiet? Huh?!"

Mustang took a while to consider his response. "I was not ordered by Umbridge to do anything," he replied. "We may have been asked by Ministry to be here for... politic group thing, but that does not mean we are completely under Ministry's command. Dumbledore ordered... ordered _Hagane -_ Elric - I do not know translation in English - to protect you. So for the duration of this mission, our loyalty belongs to your Order. Do not think otherwise." The last part was an order - and Mustang was a soldier, he was an expert on orders, and Mustang locked his raven black eyes with Harry's jade green ones, and Harry knew he meant business. He meant the truth.

"Alright," he mumbled, as he headed towards McGonagall's office's door. Mustang sighed then separated ways with him.

Harry decided not to tell Ron and Hermione about that strange encounter afterwards.

* * *

"He's finally losing it," a girl whispered to her group of friends. "Potter's finally losing it..."

"I _knew_ he was mad," a plump boy gloated to his friend, smiling evilly. "It was simply the time it took for the wizarding world to recognise it..."

"He's insane, he is," muttered another, making the sign for 'crazy' with her forefinger. "Spreading lies. Wanting attention. Trying to scare people into thinking You-Know-Who is back."

That was what Ed had heard as he made his way to lunch for a shepherd's pie. He had been surprised to see that rumours and stories spread like wildfire across the large castle, and the news of Umbridge and her fifth-year Defence Against the Dark Arts period had unfurled out onto every student. The green-tied students chuckled and laughed; it was now known to Ed that those green-tied students did not like the reds, Harry in particular.

He was surprised to see a brown tawny owl make its way across the table. However, the students seemed casual about this - taking a single glance up then returning to their meals. To even more of the Fullmetal Alchemist's surprise, it landed right in front of him and hooted twice, lifting out its leg (and attempting to take a bite of the meat inside Ed's pie, but he had tapped the owl's beak and it had turned away). "That's one of the official school owls," Neville explained, opposite Ed's position on the table. "I wonder what it's got for you..."

There were two pieces of mail he had received: the first was in Amestrian, and despite looking neat and tidy, the handwriting still looked as if it had been rushed. _Edward Elric, Gryffindor Lunch Table, Hogwarts._ He opened the envelope and had pulled out the parchment that was sealed inside.

 _Fullmetal,  
_

 _You are to report to Dumbledore at the end of the day tomorrow at his office. I will arrive at your house common room to escort you half an hour after the end of dinner. You better be ready, Fullmetal, not spending yourself absorbed in some alchemy book in the library, because I don't care._

 _When you departed the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, I noticed that you had left Magical Theory on the Art of Alchemy or whatever after the bell. I have your copy right now. You can pick it up after you finish your official report to Dumbledore._

 _No need to reply to this, whether you got this letter or not, I'll be coming to pick you up, SHORTY._

 _Signed,_

Colonel Roy Mustang

Ed sighed at the word that had been underlined three times. SHORTY. Of course he _had_ to make fun of his height. He let out a group of inaudible Amestrian curses as he took the other envelope from the owl's leg. He gagged; it was hot pink, and it was almost as if it had been sprinkled with magical glitter. Thomas and Longbottom had seemed to notice this too, letting out small snickers and chuckles. The writing was in horribly written white cursive, and the envelope had been sealed with a sticker. A _sticker._ Of a _kitten._ Ed had to admit the kitten was cute - something that Al would find on a street in the rain or up in a gutter injured then stuff into his armour, asking Ed hopelessly whether he could keep the kitten or not. He sighed, and he was very sure who the other end of this letter was from:

 _To Mr. Elric,_

 _As a Ministry official and a kind friend who is gladly willing to offer help to any student, especially a new one like yourself_ (Ed shuddered in irritation at this) _, it would be nice if you popped over for a cup of tea and talked to me about your experience at Hogwarts._

 _If you have any issues, compliments, inquiries, or the like, please don't hesitate to ask me. I am your friend._ (The gag reflex could not be controlled once again - Ed could almost _hear_ the damn toad lady in his head.) _If you have any of the above, please feel free to talk to me during our little meeting. It would be good if you popped in any time tonight, or maybe tomorrow_ (Ed prudently decided to go the night after this one; he felt he would feel better if he had went being summoned to two offices in one night - besides, Potter's detention began the night it would happen, so he could at least be a _good_ bodyguard and check on him). _This could help better the relationships between the Ministry and the Amestrian government._

 _Please bring this envelope with you, so if any teacher or Filch sees you and questions you for wandering around at night, this will notify them that you have been summoned by myself._

 _Thanking you kindly,  
_ Dolores Umbridge  
 _Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School_

"What's that?" Ed heard Potter's voice, and he looked up. He groaned a little, seeing that Potter and his two friends had been sitting very close to him, and he hadn't noticed. Ron and Hermione were peering over Harry's shoulder, and he knew that their gazes were directed towards the pretty pink envelope in his hands. "Can I see?"

Begrudgingly, Ed handed the letter over, ignoring Ron's chortles over the pink and girlish appearance of it. Hermione took it after Harry had read it, and she frowned. "Why would she be wanting something with you?"

Ed simply had nothing in response but a shrug. "Do not know. Says help better relationship with Ministry and Amestris. Maybe that is it."

"Tonight?" Harry clenched his fist so tight that Ed wished he had the letter in his hands to crumple it. "That's when I'm going to have my detention."

"I will see you there, then," Ed said with no expression, turning and then noticing that Ron had reached for the letter from Mustang. Ed leapt out to try and grab it before Ron had, but he had failed. There had been no point trying, however, as Ron simply read through the letter, tapping his chin, and Ed figured that he was stuck with deciphering the Amestrian presented on the letter and the envelope. _Thank God for the language barrier,_ Ed thought, as Ron showed the letter to his two friends. Ed took it back. "You no need to see that," he said coldly.

"What does it say, though?" Harry said. "It could be _important."_

"Not important for you," Ed said indifferently. "Give back."

"It says Mr. Mustang's name signed at the bottom," Ron said.

"Give back," Ed repeated.

"But-"

"Boys," Hermione cut in, "I think it's time to give Edward back his letter. It isn't your business to see it, anyways."

The letter was returned to Ed, and the trio went back to eating their food. Ed shot a dirty look as they left. _What the fucking hell, you nosy wizards..._ He turned back to his lunch, and was surprised to see that the owl had eaten almost all of his shepherd's pie, to most of the Gryffindor students' amusement; muttering a few Amestrian curses, he shooed the owl away, and took another pie for himself.

 _So... tomorrow night, going with Mustang to Dumbledore's office for first reports. After that, also tomorrow night, head over to Umbridge's office for some damn 'cup of tea'. And also to finish the weekly reports for the military afterwards for the remainder of the night. Oh, and that Potions homework Snape wanted. What was it about... moonstone and its properties?_

He understood why Gryffindors had not enjoyed Snape a lot. During his 'OWL' speech, he had shot nasty looks at Harry, and at the boy who had sat next to him - Neville Longbottom. He had curled his lip when he saw Harry's potion be vanished completely and be given zero marks for incompletion. Judging by the two different behaviours between the part of the class who were part of the green house and the part that was a member of the red, it seemed that the Weasleys had been right back at Grimmauld Place - Snape seemed to take favourites with the greens.

Ed knew he was _not_ going to enjoy the night that was to follow.

He excused himself and headed for the library.

* * *

Dinner had not been a good affair for Harry. Much like the lunch hour, he had spent the whole time listening to people talk about his shouting match with Umbridge, and (with the fork and knife) stabbing the steak and mashed potatoes that had been put onto his plate forcefully by Ron and Hermione.

They had left the dinner hall earlier than they usually had, causing the students to stare at them. Harry discussed with Hermione and Ron about _why_ everyone believed the bullshit the Ministry was feeding everyone. He didn't want to believe Hermione's justification, however truthful and most plausible it was - that spending three months being fed that _bullshit_ in the fucking Daily Prophet about Dumbledore going 'senile' as he aged and Harry being called some attention-seeking prat.

The next day had begun with Double Charms with Flitwick, and he had spent a wasted half period talking about their OWL exams, then asking them to focus on Summoning Charms theory work. Harry had been anxious to see whether the lesson would have any practical work in it, to see Elric's reaction and his attitude towards it, but they had never gotten it, instead staring at their books and listening to the lectures, taking notes. Harry wished he had been like Elric for a moment, not at Hogwarts for marks. He had been staring at the blackboard, then taking down notes.

Everyone except for Hermione seemed outraged at the fact that Flitwick had set them a large amount of homework at the end of the lesson.

"Don't be down!" he squeaked. "This is great importance for your exams, you will thank yourselves in the future!"

Double Transfiguration with McGonagall followed, and Harry chose to sit next to Elric, Ron and Hermione following - he had been sure he had noticed Ed looking a little sullen, louring at the others as they joined his table. He hadn't seemed to be listening as McGonagall, like the other teachers, had began to talk about the significance of OWLs. He had flipping through the pages of _Immediate Transfiguration,_ not seeming to read the words, but instead just having his eyes fixed on the moving magical pictures.

When McGonagall had finished, she told the whole class to focus on the Vanishing Spell, and Elric instantly looked up from his book. After spending the rest of the period focusing on the chapter on Vanishing and Conjuring, she had given the whole class a snail each to practise on, then taught them the way to wave their wands and to say the word ('Evanesco!').

It had been extremely complicated, as were the other work he had been given in other subjects to prepare for their OWLs, and he and Ron watched McGonagall congratulate Hermione for being the first (and Harry expected, for quite a long time, she would be the _only)_ student in the class who had successfully Vanished her snail.

Glancing on his left, Harry noticed that Elric had not done anything to his snail. Of course, he couldn't - unless alchemy was possible of doing something like that. The snail was simply leaving a barely-visible trail of slime as it headed towards the right. McGonagall saw this, and quickly rushed over to Elric, who was now muttering some words in Amestrian.

"Is there anything wrong, Mr. Elric?" she asked.

He nodded. "I cannot do this. I cannot do magic." McGonagall opened her mouth, but Elric continued: "Alchemy is not about vanishing or conjuring something into or out of nothing. You cannot create something out of nothing. Law of Conservation of Mass says energy and matter cannot be created from nothing. You also cannot destroy something into... into... I think English words are... elemental nonbeing, or nonexistence. Vanishing with your magic is not permanent. It will end up returning somehow. Alchemy and magic work differently. This is for OWL, you say? I will not be able to do this because I am alchemist, and I am not of same expert knowing as other people here."

McGonagall slowly nodded, obviously impressed by Elric's knowledge. The whole class had halted their work on Vanishing their snails, instead staring at Elric, like they had done back in Defence Against the Dark Arts. He brought his hands together with a _CLAP,_ and he brought it down onto the table. To his surprise, lightning crackled, and McGonagall pushed Harry, Ron and Hermione back. There were some gasps, and Lavender and Parvati had let out some squeals of surprise. When the lightning had died down, a small wooden snail had appeared on the table - it had seemed as if Elric had just used a small part of the table to shape the snail.

McGonagall gave a slight gasp of shock, and so did some of the rest of the class. Hermione had clapped a hand to her mouth. Harry stared at the wooden snail. _So that was alchemy..._ He had realised that it had been his first time witnessing the mysterious power before. He was amazed. If that was what alchemy was, it was cool.

It also reminded him of how little he knew of his body-guard.

"See?" Elric said, pointing at the wooden snail. "Cannot create something out of nothing. Used some of table to make. Is very important in alchemy, Law of Conservation of Mass. I cannot do your Vanishing Spells."

The Transfiguration teacher simply nodded, deeply impressed with the snail he had just created. "Now, Mr. Elric, if you please, I would like you to turn the snail back into part of the table with your alchemy, and maybe... your homework will be a summary of the Vanishing and Conjuring Spells and how they work, and how your alchemy law of... mass conservation contradicts the magic." She turned to Elric's snail, now moving its way past Harry, said, "Evanesco!" and the snail vanished.

It had been a little unfair that Elric had been given a little different homework to the rest of them, and it had been significantly less than the homework McGonagall had given the rest of the class. When the bell rang and the class exited, Hermione had been busy skimming through _Magical Theory on the Art of Alchemy._

"Why are you scrolling through the book Umbridge gave us?" Ron asked.

"Well, I've been thinking that I'd also want to do the essay," she replied. "How alchemy and its laws contradicts the spells of magic."

"There's a _reason_ why McGonagall only gave the essay to _Elric,"_ Ron groaned. "He can't even do magic! Besides, why would you want _extra_ homework, with the crap-ton she's already given us? And then there's Flitwick's homework to think about! Not to mention the stupid essay for stupid Snape! ARGH! I _hate_ OWL year!"

Wanting to turn the conversation subject to something less stressful than OWLs, Harry said, "Did you see that alchemy that Elric did?"

"Oh, yeah!" Ron grinned. "That was _so_ cool! There was lightning, and blue light, and then-" his words simply turned into frantic hand gestures. "It just _bam!_ And it had all started with a _clap!_ " He slapped his hands together just like Elric had, and slammed them onto the floor.

"And that 'Law of Conservation of Mass' Edward was talking about..." Hermione tapped her chin thoughtfully. "That was something Edward had told me about over the holidays. Maybe I could ask him to expand on that subject more..."

They had not seen Elric until he and Ron went to library to study, and he had seen Elric with a pile of books. One had been about Potions, obviously for his homework, then some books on Charms, _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5,_ and some books about Transfiguration. They decided not to bother him, and went to look for their own resources for Snape's homework.

* * *

Care of Magical Creatures had ended, and Ed decided he didn't like it.

Bowtruckles, that was what those stick things had been called, right? His glove on his right hand had been poked at angrily by those stick creatures as he attempted to draw it, as instructed by the teacher.

Ed rolled his eyes as Harry tried to reason with a girl who looked as old as Fred and George, about 'quidditch' and 'Keeper tryouts.' He didn't care, however. Wasn't his mission to body-guard Harry? He was sure that giving a shit about Harry and ex-curricular activities was not part of his job.

He had excused himself early from the table, the girl from the 'quidditch' thing's voice still ringing in his head, and went to Gryffindor Tower. The next half hour had been quiet, Elric spending some time in solitude in the dormitory, completing the military report and Professor Flitwick's homework to explain Summoning. He had decided not to focus on Professor McGonagall's homework until he had gotten back his copy of _Magical Theory on the Art of Alchemy._ It seemed like the book that would help him a lot.

When the half hour was over, Ed headed back to the common room, and peered out of the stupid portrait of a fat lady that concealed the way, and he noticed Mustang heading towards it. He climbed out of the portrait.

 _"Hey, Colonel Bastard,"_ he greeted the Flame Alchemist in Amestrian.

 _"Hello there, Fullmetal,"_ Mustang nodded back. He smirked. _"How have your lessons been? Not too hard, perhaps? Doing all right?"_

 _"That's none of your business. But I have to admit, most of them are a little bit boring. Some just plain stupid. How 'bout you? It can't be worse than mine, being stuck with that pink toad lady for the past two days._ _"_

Mustang sighed, placing a hand through his hair in complete irritation. _"There's not even that much I have to do. I just stand there. Monitor the class when they read the damn Defensive Magical Theory book or whatnot. She assigned the alchemy book to everyone else, too. She promised I'll have more teaching time in the future, but right now, I'm just hating it. I could be stuck with any teacher in this damned school, and it had to be HER."_ He sighed. _"Now, fix yourself, Fullmetal. It's best to look sharp."_

Ed fixed the red Hogwarts tie as they approached an office that he was now sure belonged to Dumbledore. Mustang made a 'come here, follow me' gesture with his hand, as they approached a tall gargoyle structure (Ed approved of this - it had been pretty cool), and Mustang coughed, cleared his throat, and said in English two words he had never heard before: "Sherbet lemons."

It meant nothing but nonsense to Edward, but apparently it had been the right thing to say, as the statue moved and led the way to a staircase of stone steps. Ed nodded appreciatively. _What a cool way to get into an office..._

 _"Come on, Fullmetal,"_ Mustang ordered. _"Let's go."_

Ed had been surprised as he entered Dumbledore's office. It was almost as if the office was an alive city of its own. He gaped at the bustling sounds, the portraits who had been talking in hushed voices to each other (Ed had learned that this was the norm at Hogwarts and the magical world in particular - however, he was still surprised), and strange furniture and decorations adorned the small room. There was a large desk at the front, and Ed suspected that was where Dumbledore sat. He could not see him, however; standing in front of the desk, conversing quietly with the Headmaster was the Transfiguration teacher from earlier in the day and the Potions professor - Snape.

Mustang coughed into his throat to turn the attention to him and Ed, and the Transfiguration teacher and Snape turned. Dumbledore gave a small smile. "Edward!" he said. "Enjoying your first two days here at Hogwarts, I hope?"

"Yes," he mumbled slowly. He sighed, and noticed that everyone was looking at him, obviously waiting for the report. Ed slowly turned to Mustang, and whispered frantically in Amestrian, _"What do I say?"_

 _"I don't know... it's your report, say what you have to say!"_

 _"Well... what did you say when you did your report?"_

 _"That's none of your business!"_

 _"Does it matter? Especially when I have everyone looking at me hoping I have something to say?"_

 _"Tell them what's up with Potter. Is he doing fine, or...?"_

 _"I'm Potter's BODYGUARD, not his fucking STALKER!"_ Ed spluttered. _"It's not like I'm going to go spy on him! I -"_

 _"Gentlemen,"_ Dumbledore coughed into his fist, _"I think it would be nice if we all spoke in English. Poor Professors Snape and McGonagall are here staring quite dumbfounded-ly at you two."_ He turned to the two teachers and switched back to English: "I apologise. Now, Mr. Elric, please, do go on with your report. All in English, I may say."

Ed coughed. _Time to bullshit my way through._

"All fine. Harry Potter and his friends doing fine. Not much news from me. However, not so good for Potter in Defence Against Dark Arts class. Ugly toad woman - I mean, Umbridge," Ed quickly corrected himself as the teachers around him raised an eyebrow each, "gave Potter detention. She also gave me this yesterday."

He handed Dumbledore the pink envelope. He opened the flap and read through the contents. The old wizard simply nodded, saying, "Ah... very smart of Dolores. But I think she is able to do this, anyways. After all, you two were sent from the Ministry of Magic... Roy, I ask of you to probably expect a note similar to this one." Mustang nodded, a little shocked maybe to hear himself being called on by his first name. "She is attempting to warm up to you, I think-"

"Will not work," Ed cut in. "Does not Order say Ministry is bad news? Hermione said Ministry is trying to interfere at Hogwarts. I think Ministry wants us to join their side."

"I'm glad you listen to Miss Granger at any rate," The Transfiguration teacher - McGonagall - sniffed. "And will you, Mr. Elric?" She looked at him dead in the eye. "Or you, Mr. Mustang?"

Mustang shook his head. "The Ministry has simply asked us to be here as honorary guests to improve our countries' relationships," he replied, and Ed raised his eyes at Mustang's English. It had changed drastically in the gap of time he had left Grimmauld Place up to now at Hogwarts; his thick accent was fading, his pronunciation had been correct and Ed suspected he was beginning to move up from the level of proficiency to almost fluency for speaking. "They did not ask us to spread the... what word in English... defamation that they have started. Me and Elric are... soldiers. We follow exact orders. Ministry asked us to be here, so we obeyed. Order asked Edward to be Potter's bodyguard, so he obeys."

There was a small cough, and everyone turned towards Snape. He gave Ed a steely look, eyes piercing like icy daggers straight into his soul, which sent shivers down his spine. "What is it, Severus?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

"I have a few, ah... _doubts_ in this mission's success," he replied, almost as calmly as the Headmaster.

"Doubts?" Mustang asked. "Do you not have faith in the Amestrian military?"

"The same military that recruited a small boy?" Ed wanted to leap at the Potions teacher, yell at him for calling him 'small', protest that he was capable enough of becoming a state alchemist - for his own purposes, to follow his own path. Instead, Mustang beat him to it, saying simply, "Elric is very respected State Alchemist."

"Really?"

"Severus, I beg you to-" McGonagall began, but Snape held out a hand for her to stop. "His age is the same as Potter's-"

"- perfect for the job-" Mustang looked irritated and slowly becoming angry, Ed noticed.

"- and I wonder why he was chosen as the bodyguard for the mission. He is only fifteen - he cannot do as much as Potter can."

Mustang glared. "Those years ago... I had information Elric was in his thirties. In fact, he was just twenty years below that." He chuckled softly. "Elric is very talented alchemist. Very respected. His name is known around the Eastern Area of our home country. Youngest state alchemist at twelve three years ago, his testing beat everyone else who were ten, twenty years his senior. He is known as _Hagane no Renkinjutsushi..._ I do not know translation in English."

The whole group turned to Dumbledore for the translation. The Headmaster clicked his tongue and smiled. "Ah. _Hagane no Renkinjutsushi..._ quite a name. The direct translation is 'Alchemist of Steel', but I think the translation dear Roy wants here is 'Fullmetal Alchemist.' A fitting name... Edward, you do seem to be quite the stubborn-headed 'fullmetal' attitude... or is that codename for something else?"

Ed shifted his automail arm a little, hidden by both the sleeves of the Hogwarts robes and his gloves. He didn't want to answer. Heck, why did he _have_ to answer? Did Dumbledore know his secret? But very few knew the true story behind it... and they were all Amestrians. Snape saved him from answering, however. "A name does not mean anything," he sneered.

"Then why do you wizards be scared when you hear the name Voldemort?" Ed had paused before saying the name, and he now knew what to expect when the name was said: gasps of shock, shivers, or flinches... the like. He was right - McGonagall shuddered on hearing the name, and Snape widened his eyes in surprise. The name, however, did not garner any reaction from Dumbledore.

"Well, anyways," Snape grumbled, "I am trying to prove a point. I do not believe Elric has the years and the experience to complete the mission successfully."

Mustang coughed into his fist. "If he did not, then he would be out of the military ages ago. Just a while ago, there was train hijacking. The East is always riddled with little crimes such as terrorists of the Eastern Liberation Front." Ed saw from the corner of his eye McGonagall, who widened her eyes at the last part. "Hijacked train on its way to the capital, took hostages. Elric single-handedly took care of them and battled them. No hostage died. The train had regained control. There was a soldier and his family on board - the soldier was the target. Needless to say, Elric made sure he was not hurt. Everyone was safe on train. A little shaken, but good."

Snape widened his eyes, raised his eyebrows in doubt. McGonagall did the same, looking at Ed - not with doubt, but with fascination. Dumbledore clapped his hands together twice and said, "A feat well done. The military was right in taking you under their wing, Mr. Elric?"

"A child, though?" McGonagall said as she adjusted her glasses. "Why would the military be right in ruining Elric's childhood and turning him into one of them?"

"You don't understand," Ed snapped angrily, and now the eyes were on him. "You don't understand why I became alchemist of military. I did it because I made a _promise._ I do not want to break it." He looked at each of the adults, fire blazing in his eyes. No-one understood. It was _his_ fault _it_ had happened. It was _his_ fault that Al was condemned to an empty shell. He promised he would get his brother's body back. No-one understood.

McGonagall made a tiny gasp, and Snape stared at him. After a long silence, Mustang said, "Do you think we _forced_ him to become a state alchemist? Every state alchemist becomes one by choice - they are willing to give their whole... allegiance to the military, in exchange for resources and access to research beyond your wildest dreams."

The silence after that was even more painful, and Ed said, "I must go now. Umbridge is waiting for me. She wants me to her office."

 _"Professor_ Umbridge," Dumbledore corrected him, and Ed thought irritably that Umbridge was not worthy of being called _Professor._ Her letter almost shifted in Ed's pocket. "Well, off you trot. Roy, please stay here. We have much to discuss." As Ed reached for the door, he was sure he heard "Goodnight", and a reminder from McGonagall to finish the essay she had set him.

He walked down towards Umbridge's office; he was sure that he had passed her office once or twice on the way to class. As he walked down one of the hallways, he shuddered as he saw that the people in the portraits had their beady eyes on him. To his surprise, one wizard in the frame stood up from his position and simply disappeared.

"What're you doing here out late, boy?" a voice drawled from behind, and Ed turned. It was an old, rheumatic man, with hunched shoulders and back, possibly because tedious work and old age had finally caught up to him. Ed felt like he wasn't being offensive in saying that he was ugly - his horrible face was pouch-y and pasty, with bulging, pale eyes and sunken veined cheeks. He had thin grey hair at the back of his head and quivery jawls. He shuffled slowly towards Ed, wheezing as he did so. "Don't you know it's against the rules to be out here late?"

"I need to go see Umbridge-" Ed began, but was cut off. "Don't you have any proof?" He smiled evilly, and continued: "Staying out of bed at night is a punishable offence...A detention or two in my office would be a perfect punishment, or maybe-"

If the old man had another suggestion for Ed's repercussion for his wandering out at night, Ed never heard it. Instead, he heard a high, girlish voice - "He's dealing with me, Filch-" and they both turned. Umbridge was there, pink cardigan and apparel and all, smiling as if she had no care in the world. The old man - Filch - went up to her, and pointed at Ed, saying that he had disobeyed rules and deserved to be punished with some sort of ramification. Umbridge simply shook her head, replying, "No, Filch... I know you _love_ handing out punishments to those who deserve them... but not Mr. Elric today. He was summoned to my office. You hadn't shown up for a while, Mr. Edward," she now began to address Ed by his first name, giving a horrible smile as she did so, "so I was heading over to your common room to fetch you."

"Was summoned by Mustang," Ed said.

 _"I_ was summoned by _Professor_ Mustang," Umbridge corrected him sweetly, and shudders went up Ed's spine at her tone of voice. "Well, I think it's done now, shall we bid Mr. Filch a good night and head over to my office, shall we?" Umbridge placed a hand each on Ed's shoulders, making him very uncomfortable and making Filch gape. "Now, we _must_ be heading back right now... Mr. Potter is serving detention right now, I must go back to him and monitor whether the message has... ah... _sunk in."_

Ed did not like the last two words she had just said. As they entered the office, Ed gaped. Not at the office's beauty (as there was none), but at the... _pink-ness_ of the whole place. It was not like Dumbledore's office at all - rather, the opposite. _This is fucking overkill,_ Ed thought, as he saw the hot pink lace and cloths surround the room. He wrinkled his nose at the ornate antique vases that lay happily, each on its own doily - but he almost smiled at how the vases held withering flowers only. But what made him shake his head in disgust were the _cats._ It wasn't entirely the cats' problem - to Ed, they were actually cute, each kitten having a little bow atop its chest, standing proudly, adorably drinking milk, or just happily playing around with various colourful balls of yarn. It was the fact that _Umbridge_ had these in her office. It was as if a pretty pink 5-year-old's birthday had made an explosion into her office.

"AH!" Umbridge noticed Ed staring around the office. "Enjoying my office? It _is_ a beautiful sight to set your eyes upon on, yes?"

"Well... it is _interesting..."_ then Ed was surprised to hear a familiar voice. "Do you understand the importance of not telling lies, now?"

"Yes," mumbled the familiar voice. A turn towards the voice and Ed figured out that it was Harry. He had forgotten that Potter had faced detention that night.

"Yes, _Professor Umbridge,"_ Umbridge added.

"Yes... Professor Umbridge."

Umbridge smiled and nodded, then turned to Ed. "Let's go in another door, yes?" she smiled. As Ed nodded, she pushed Ed towards a pink door, and before he made his way in, he made sure to wave at Harry before the door closed shut.

When the door closed, Umbridge brought out her stick, muttered a word Ed didn't know as she pointed the wand towards the door. There was no response or any magical explosion or light, but toad woman quickly explained that the magic she had used was called an 'Imperturbable Charm', a spell used to create a magical barrier on a target object. She called the door 'Imperturbed', and Ed, not fully understanding the concept, simply nodded. Then he realised she had done that to make sure Potter wouldn't be able to eavesdrop. _A prudent choice,_ Ed thought, because as far as he knew, wizards were as nosy as fuck.

"Well, Mr. Elric, how are you settling in at Hogwarts?"

 _Can't we just skip to the important bits?_ "Fine. Doing good."

 _"I_ am doing good," Umbridge corrected, and Ed wanted to groan, maybe yell at her for correcting him again and again. "Are classes hard for you? Especially the... practical classes?"

"Am - _I_ am doing okay," Ed quickly changed his sentence, thinking about the essay McGonagall had given him after he had explained to her the differences of alchemy and magic when it came to Transfiguration. "But, being honest, I think theory is better for me."

Umbridge nodded. "When it comes to education, theory is more important than the practicality of the lesson. After all, once you understand the theory, there is no reason for you to do practicals in exams efficiently." She nodded again, probably to prove her point to Ed.

"I would like to ask," Ed cleared his throat and spoke lightly, hoping not to sound impolite, "why you have summoned me here... Professor..." in his mind, he banged himself against the walls of his brain. It annoyed him so _much_ to call that ugly toad woman _Professor._

"Ah, but you have read my letter, yes?" she said, and Ed grudgingly took the envelope out of his pocket. Truthfully, it made him feel a little embarrassed, carrying something like _that_ with him. She took the letter and smiled sweetly at the kitten sticker. "I would like to improve the relations between Britain and Amestris. As you might or might not know, the past has not been... too good. However, this is the modern day; we must push away the past in order to make way for the future." That last sentence had given Ed mixed thoughts on it, considering his own history... he felt shocked at himself for nodding along with her, his mind agreeing with it. _We must push away the past in order to make way for the future._

You didn't push away the past, you used it as motivation to become stronger. At least, that was what Teacher said, and as far as Ed knew, she was always correct.

 _But she hasn't met wizards..._ Ed thought bitterly. _She hasn't been sent to some crap magic school to bodyguard some random person. She isn't sitting and conversing with a hideous toad lady who's obsessed with cats. God, I hate my life..._

"-friendship and understanding is what the Ministry wants, Mr. Elric," Umbridge finished, and Ed snapped away from his thoughts and reluctantly back to her. Umbridge studied him carefully, and Ed said, after a while, "How about Mustang? Wouldn't he be good at this? He is an adult. He is better at resolving matters like this."

"Dear Roy has... well, _other_ things to do," she replied. "Besides, as a temporary member of Hogwarts' student body, I would like to hear from you about your take on the happenings of Hogwarts and how suited you are to him. I will be speaking to Roy too, don't worry. Of course, I have heard from the Ministry he is your higher-up back in the military." Her eyes glinted. "You _are_ part of the military of Amestris, yes?"

Ed nodded stiffly. "Colonel Mustang. As state - _as_ a state alchemist I am only equal to the title of Major."

At that rate, Ed thought irritably, the conversation was going nowhere. There was a small clock in her office; however, just like at the magical platform at King's Cross, it showed planets and stars and other things Ed couldn't tell how they were supposed to assist in reading the time, but he knew that the night was getting later and later... heck, was it already morning?

He faked a large yawn in front of Umbridge and said, "I'm sleepy. Professor, may I be excused to bed?"

"You may," she nodded happily, and as Ed went for the door, she said, "You do know that the Ministry would _love_ your contributions to Hogwarts. After all, change is coming soon to the school, and hopefully you may be interested in it. To help the military of yours. We would love to see you leave the school with happy memories and a stable connection between Britain and Amestris."

"Maybe," Ed replied, "Amestris military would be interested in this _change._ Increase... _relationship_ between countries." He closed the door and sighed.

Harry was still doing his detention, which made Ed wonder how long detentions at Hogwarts were to punish a student - or was it just Umbridge? Harry had looked up at him, and he waved at Ed. Hesitating a moment, Ed lifted his hand up in a goodbye motion and bolted out the door. He was out. It almost felt like the joy of escaping or being freed from some hellish prison.

Then he realised he forgot.

Ed sighed.

He had forgotten to ask back for his copy of _Magical Theory on the Art of Alchemy_ from Mustang. He cursed, looking in the direction towards Dumbledore's office. Should he get it now? Was Mustang still even _in_ there?

He made his way back to the Gryffindor common room, sighing repeatedly along the way.

* * *

 _The language, Amestrian, is not Japanese. I know lots of people use Japanese or German to be the language of Amestris, but that's not the case here. Hagane no Renkinjutsushi was simply used because... well, I like it. Its direct translation is 'Alchemist of Steel', I'm sure, but Amestrian isn't portrayed as Japanese or German or any other language._

 _Thank you for reading Chapter 8._


	9. Chapter 9

_INCREDIBLE! 100 FAVORITES! THANK YOU SO MUCH!_

* * *

When Ed took his place at breakfast the next day, he had not expected the owls to come swooping in once again.

Ron, Harry and Hermione had taken their place on the far end of the Gryffindor table. Shrugging, he decided to follow them and take his place next to Ron. He had widened his eyebrows at this. "That's strange," he said.

Ed raised his eyebrow. "Is is not my place to sit here?"

"Well..." Ron shook his head. "You've never sat here with us before, you've been alienating yourself with other kids then you just sit with us?"

"I just want to eat breakfast," Ed said irritably. They stared as Ed wolfed down the cereal he had placed in his bowl and the milk that had been hurriedly poured in, but stopped as soon as the owls came in, with sharp, ear-piercing hoots.

Ed noticed Gryffindor students go into a scramble to get their letters, standing up and pushing each other to reach their mail. However, he was surprised to see an owl fly towards him. It had been the same owl, the same owl he used to write to Alphonse. He pushed the owl away as it went to peck his bowl, and in annoyance, the owl shook its head. To his surprise, the owl didn't have any letter on its leg. He looked around, until Hermione pointed out that there was a thick folder tied upon its back.

He opened the folder, and was surprised to see a large number of letters spill out onto the table. _All of them are Al's?_ he thought, then he noticed that some of them had the military stamp on them, and a few other letters that familiarly looked like his friend Winry's. Ron clicked his tongue in approval, muttering, "Damn, that's a lot of letters," but Ed paid little attention to him as he began to read.

The trio had begun to look over the first letter, to Ed's irritation. _Nosy wizards._ Then they muttered, "Amestrian," then resumed their eating. It made Ed thankful they couldn't read the language, and that English wasn't a language spoken regularly back home.

Apparently, it looked like Al had written a letter daily, and each of them were so long - some of them reached _two_ pages. He talked about daily life in Amestris, any significant news about the terrorists or the military, and the time he spent with Lieutenant Hawkeye. He had also written that Winry had come to visit from Resembool several times, and his sadness at how the military had not permitted him to stay with her and Granny - since Ed had gone, Alphonse was now in the care of the military and had to be look after by a soldier. _Oh, and Ed,_ Al had written, _I've chosen a name for the owl. It's called Owlbus... hehe. After learning about Mr. Dumbledore's first name, I decided to name it Owlbus. No point changing it anymore. Hawkeye had a name for him - she used the same naming system she used to name Black Hayate, but the owl only responds to Owlbus now. I feel proud._

Ed took a glance at the owl, who was now trying to peck at his cereal. "No - no - damn, owl!" he grumbled, but the owl made no response. After a second thought, he called the owl, saying, "Owlbus - OWLBUS!" Finally the owl hooted angrily and moved away, and students on the table had laughed - either because of Ed's suffering, or the name choice of the owl.

There was a small book inside the folder as well, and Ed smiled as he read the title: _EASY AUTOMAIL MAINTENANCE!_ Of course, the book was from Winry. Al had written that he had attached the letter she had sent him to send the book on to him, and it looked like Winry had written plenty of letters as well. The letters were short and brief, and the writing looked rushed, with the occasional drop of grease or oil on the paper. He frowned at the several times Winry had called him 'short' and the number of times she had told him to drink his milk - he scoffed simply at it, and even more as he saw an illustration of him being coerced into drinking milk by her, Al, and Granny.

 _Remember to drink your milk,_ Winry had written. _MAKE SURE YOU DO OR I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN. I DON'T CARE IF I DON'T KNOW THE LOCATION OF THE SCHOOL YOU'RE AT. Please also make sure to take care of your automail... that's why I gave you the book, dummy. _Ed smiled at this; it was almost as if Winry was there, next to him, except that the wrench hadn't hit him on the head yet. He had preferred this way. She expressed her discontent at the fact Alphonse was not allowed to stay with them, and with final greetings and 'I miss you's, the young Rockbell had signed off.

Lieutenant Hawkeye had written as well, a response to his reports: _Edward, when writing your reports, please stop spending over 2 pages drawing and describing Hogwarts. But whatever it looks like, it seems exciting. But please do not spend a long time describing it._

 _Alphonse is doing well under my care, he's quite an intelligent young boy and he is currently behaving well. Scar is still on the prowl -_ Ed glanced at the newspaper cuttings he had been sent of Scar and the state alchemists he had killed - _but sources say that he is after you, as the state alchemist, not your brother, so we believe he is perfectly safe (however, he will still be under my protection)._

 _Make sure to say hello to the Colonel for me. I hope he is not making any trouble at the school and that I expect another report by next week... Alphonse says hello, though I presume you've got all his letters. Breda, Havoc, Fuery and Falman all share greetings and good luck._

 _Nice owl you have, by the way. Owlbus is a nice name, if not a little funny one._

 _\- 1st Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye  
_ Amestrian State Military, East City Headquarters

He looked up from the letters he had been sent, and was surprised to see Hermione holding a newspaper cutting. The headline had said: **STATE ALCHEMIST MURDERER SCAR STILL ON THE LOOSE...** but it had been in Amestrian, so it was obvious that she couldn't read them. However, she frowned as she saw the artist's impression of Scar. Ed remembered what he had looked like from their first (and not so possibly their last) confrontation, and the memory had brought shudders up his back. "Edward," she said slowly. "This is a criminal, right?"

He raised his eyebrows. "How you know?"

"Artist's impression." She pointed at the sketch. "And the people here look like those he killed..." She pointed at several tiny pictures, one of them being Brigadier General Basque Grand... and that _bastard_ Shou Tucker.

"Whoa," Harry swallowed a large mouthful of food and shifted his right hand. "Is your country corrupt, Elric?"

Ed did not reply and took back the newspaper cutting from Hermione. He finished the last of his cereal in silence, pushed his bowl, still with milk away and packed the letters and mail away, back into the folder. He excused himself from the table, and went upstairs. He had the damn twig creature drawing to finish for Care of Magical Creatures, as well as conclude his moonstone essay for Potions and the essay for McGonagall on alchemy and magic in the aspect of Transfiguration. He sighed as he said the ridiculous password into the Gryffindor common room, and was gained entry by the fat lady portrait. He wished slightly he had been placed in first year, instead of fifth. At least first-years seemed like they weren't given too much homework.

He cursed and went out again, and headed for Mustang's office. He _had_ to pick up the _Magical Theory on the Art of Alchemy._ He faintly heard the Fat Lady calling, "If you were going to go out again, what was the point of coming in the first place?"

* * *

Ron slowly ambled through the darkness of Hogwarts Castle at night. Sweat beaded the tips of his hair and his forehead, and he clenched the handle of his new Cleansweep Eleven even tighter, as if it were the handle of a sword.

Today had been a good practice, he mused. He had scored more goals that night than the previous others; it had given him confidence to try out for Keeper. He continually pushed away the negative thoughts that echoed repeatedly like a monotonous repetition in his head. He was good at doing it, wasn't he? Whatever. _I'm going to do it tomorrow,_ he thought as he saw Fred and George with a group of first years, and then quickly passed the statue of Lachlan the Lanky. _I'll try and become Gryffindor's Keeper -_

There was a creak; and Ron widened his eyes. _Who the hell would be up wandering around this time of night?_ "Ron?"

Damn it. It was Harry. But it made Ron feel better that it had been his best friend, and not anyone else, who had discovered him. Then he realised that Harry was back from writing lines with Umbridge. A few more thoughts passed through him, and as Harry approached him, he immediately made a fruitless attempt to hide the Cleansweep Eleven behind his back.

Harry peeked behind Ron. "What's that?" He looked at him. "What are you doing so late up?"

"Er - nothing..." Ron said. "What are _you_ doing?"

He hoped to God that his cheeks weren't flustered from embarrassment, and that his ears hadn't turned red in the dark either, and he noticed that his voice was quicker and more nervous than usual. Harry pressed on, asking for answers; so Ron simply sighed and said, "Hiding. From Fred and George, if you must know. I saw them with a bunch of midgets, probably first-years... they're probably testing their damn products on them. I mean, Hermione's still up there, it's not like they're going to do it in front of _her."_

He silently cursed his feverish and trembling manner as Harry asked Ron about his new broom. "You haven't been flying, haven't you?"

 _I give up,_ Ron thought in defeat. He replied, "OK, well, I'll tell you, but don't laugh, OK, right?" He went on to explain that he had decided to try out for Gryffindor Keeper now that the spot was vacant, and that now he had a decent broom. He felt that he was turning even more redder by the second as he spoke; at this rate, he would become an apple. As Harry asked him about his skills, he said that he felt that he was 'decent' and the way of how he practised to Keep... As they set off together towards the common room, Ron opened his mouth to talk to Harry about his detention, when he noticed liquid red drops on Harry's right hand.

"Harry, what's that?"

"No," Harry attempted to pull his right hand away, but Ron grabbed it and pulled it towards him. He seethed with anger, anger towards Umbridge as he pieced the jigsaw puzzle together... _I must not tell lies..._ "That's sick. That _bitch!"_ he spat. He looked at Harry worriedly. "You said she was just giving you lines, man!"

Harry managed a weak laugh in reply. "Well, I _was_ telling the truth when I said that... I just didn't tell you the _full_ story..." He continued to tell Ron about the truth behind his detentions with Umbridge, and Ron angrily swore with a few choice words he knew that not many would approve of. Not that he cared. "That's sick!" he yelled. "That old, toad hag! You got to go tell someone! Someone's got to put a _stop_ to this! Tell McGonagall!"

"No," Harry said. "I'm not giving Umbridge that satisfaction that she's got to me."

"Got to you? GOT TO YOU?" Ron bellowed. "I told you, someone has to put a stop to this! It's torture! Literally! You have to tell someone... Dumbledore, tell Dumbledore!"

Again, Harry refused, saying that the Headmaster had enough on his mind. Ron shook his head, his mind racing with the possible people they could report to... "How about Elric? Tell Elric!"

"Why Elric?" Harry sounded genuinely confused.

"He's your bodyguard, right? He's supposed to be here for things like this? This is probably the stuff he's _paid_ for! Go on, tell him, he stays up until early morning anyway, he's still awake-"

"He hasn't been acting like a bodyguard," Harry said. "Aren't bodyguards supposed to stay close to you - not that I want to be stalked on 24/7, but Elric's been alienating himself from us, staying shut up in the library or his bed doing who knows what."

"Elric is supposed to help you with the _important_ stuff," Ron argued, "this counts as important!" he added as Harry opened his mouth to speak. "You can't let Umbridge get to you! If you're not going to tell the adults, at least tell someone relatable your age!"

He and Harry continued to bicker all the way to the Fat Lady; and Ron couldn't help but ponder over Harry's words. It was true, Elric hadn't been spending too much time with them, only seeing him for a long period of time in the dorm, classes and during mealtimes. He hadn't been interacting with any of them either. As far as Ron knew, bodyguards weren't supposed to act like this. Wasn't Elric paid to protect Harry? Wasn't this one of the times that Elric would have to step up and do what he was asked to do?

* * *

"Harry, I did it, I'm Keeper!"

Harry braved a small smile as he struggled to ignore the throbs and pains coming from his hand. Blood trickled slowly and painfully down from the wounds, and stained a little the Butterbeer mug he had been given from Ron. He felt as if he would've been happier if he hadn't had the frequent detentions at all. It was worse than the Forbidden Forest (Hagrid had been there, and Malfoy had gotten quite a fright), and answering fucking fan mail from Lockhart (at least it never caused something like this. Rather, it was as if answering the mail was testing his sanity). Ron left him to see if he could fit in Oliver Wood's old Keeper robes, and his heart lifted a little when Angelina approached him and apologised for her harsh behaviour, and her opinion on Ron.

He moved over to Hermione, who awoke suddenly with a jolt. They exchanged a conversation about his hurting scar back at the detention, and Harry's suspicions of Umbridge being possessed by Voldemort, either through the way he had possessed Quirrell back in first year, or, as Hermione suspected, the Imperius Curse.

"You should tell Dumbledore," Hermione said, and Harry sighed; this had been the second time he had been asked to do so. "You also need to tell him about what that old hag's been _doing_ to you... that _thing_ she's using, it's either called a Blood Quill, or Black Quill, it's an old form of wizarding torture, it's been outlawed by the Warlocks' Wizarding Convention in 1789, she's not even supposed to _have_ one!" she moaned.

"I'm not bothering Dumbledore," Harry replied indignantly. "You just said it wasn't a big deal, Hermione! It's just been going on and off, hurting like a switch - I'll be fine-"

"But Dumbledore might _want_ to be bothered by this-"

"Is that what he only cares about, then?" Harry asked coldly. "My _scar?"_

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione pleaded. "That's not true, that's not true!"

"Then I'll write to Siri - _Snuffles_ then, see what he thinks-"

"Harry, letters in and out of Hogwarts could be watched, you can't put something like that in a letter!" Hermione said, looking very alarmed. "Owls could be intercepted! They could find more dirt to discredit you, say you're going mad again and that your scar is hurting! Worse, they could find Sirius!" She sighed. "Tell Elric, then! Isn't that what he's here for?"

"Elric?" Harry shot back. "Would he even know what to _do_ with a hurting scar? Are hurting scars as results from Killing Curses part of alchemy? It's not like he can do his clap alchemy thing and _boom,_ everything is back to normal!"

"At least _tell him!"_ Hermione said. "He could tell Dumbledore for you-"

"Didn't I say already that Dumbledore has enough to be bothered about?" Harry said. "Fine, I won't tell Snuffles, but I won't tell Dumbledore or Elric either. I'm going to bed. Tell Ron for me, will you?"

Hermione sighed, her eyes full of apology and weariness from arguing with Harry, and offered him to stay and help create hats for the house-elves. Harry saw her face turn into a gleeful beam, and Harry, vaguely tempted by her offer, refused and left for the bedroom, leaving her a little crestfallen.

When he entered the dormitory, he was surprised to see Elric on his bed, swearing in both English and his own language, piece of parchment on his duvet, while bending down over to his bed-table to dip his quill in ink. Giving up, Harry saw him take out of his trunk a muggle fountain pen, and then shove the book ferociously towards the floor. Approaching it, Harry noticed that it was the book on alchemy Umbridge had set them: _Magical Theory on the Art of Alchemy._ Harry bit his lip angrily. Their homework was to read the damn thing. So far, Harry had no obligation to do any homework set to them by Umbridge.

Harry picked up the book and put in on Elric's bed. He looked up, and Harry said, "Uh, here."

"No, fine," Elric muttered, his tone so angry and annoyed it almost made Harry jump. "Book is trash. How you say in English...? Fucking _trash."_ He muttered some words in Amestrian and continued, "Wrong laws. Wrong information. Wrong everything. Wizards are stupid," he growled, then he looked up at Harry. "No... no offence."

"Nah," Harry said, crawling up to his own bed. "There are plenty of times I think wizards are a pain in the ass as well." He glanced at Elric again. "What're you doing?"

"Homework," he said simply, "from your Transfiguration teacher. About alchemy and magic in Transfiguration. Thought book would help. I was wrong."

"Wizards can be wrong about plenty of things," Harry said, and he pulled the curtains over his four-poster, "I guess that's a big lesson we all have to learn."

He pulled his quilt over his head, and drifted off into an uneasy sleep, the pain from his hand slowly starting to leave him.

* * *

 _Dear Snuffles,_

 _Hope you're OK, the first week back here's been terrible, I'm really glad it's the weekend._

 _We've got a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Umbridge. She's nearly as nice as your mum. I'm writing because that thing I wrote to you last summer again happened last night when I was doing a detention with Umbridge. Ron and Hermione want me to also tell our other friend, but I doubt he'd care in stuff like that._

 _We're all missing our biggest friend, we hope he'll be back soon._

 _Please write back quickly._

 _Best,  
Harry_

He reread it again and again, hoping that no-one would interpret the letter, and Harry was pleased with himself; no-one would know what he was writing about, and even better who to. _Other friend..._ he had stopped himself from writing 'newest friend', as he was worried that it was not obscure enough. Elric wasn't even considered a friend to Harry, so he hoped Sirius would take the hint about this, as well as the way he had put Hagrid in his letter.

He stood and left for the Owlery.

* * *

 **TRESPASS AT MINISTRY**

 **Sturgis Podmore, 38, of number two, Clapham, has appeared in front of the Wizengamot charged with trespass and attempted robbery at the Ministry of Magic on the 31st of August. Podmore was arrested by Ministry of Magic watchwizard Eric Munch, who found him attempting to force his way through a top-security door at one o'clock in the morning. Podmore, who refused to speak on his own defence, was convicted of both charges and sentenced to six months in Azkaban.**

Though Ed did not understand some of the language and wizarding terms used in the 'prophet' delivered to him, he was sure that Azkaban sounded much like a prison, and that Podmore was a member of the Order, a name he had heard a few times back at Grimmauld Place, and once from Moody back at Kings' Cross Station back on the 1st of September. He shook his head; the day they left for Hogwarts was the day after this had happened.

He turned the pages of the paper, and bit his lip when he saw the words: **Ministry of Magic has received a tip-off from a reliable source that Sirius Black, notorious mass murder is currently hiding in London... Ministry warns wizarding community Black is very dangerous... on the night of He Who Must Not Be Named's demise, he killed thirteen people. He broke out of Azkaban just two years ago...**

"Black... is mass murderer?" Ed asked uncertainly.

"No," Harry snapped at him. "He was framed."

Harry, Ron and Hermione, to Ed's displeasure, had taken their places close to him, and despite their voices being hushed, Ed could hear most of the words. It was quite unfair to Ed really, how this Podmore person had been forced to six months imprisonment for simply breaking in a door. Were wizards that corrupt, that ignorant, that _stupid_ to send a youth to court for defending himself, and imprison someone for half a year for trying to open a door? He heard Harry talk about Podmore with his two friends, and their theories on what truly happened.

 _What the fucking hell, wizards._

"Well, it has been said Sturgis Podmore was on very good terms with Dumbledore," Ed heard a grumble behind him. He turned, and moved towards Finnegan and his friends, Thomas and Longbottom, as he continued, "I mean, is this what Dumbledore and his pals are getting up to now? It's just trouble-"

"Just 'cause he was friends with Dumbledore doesn't mean Dumbledore has anything to do with it," Longbottom cut in.

"Well, _Potter's_ been friends with Dumbledore, he's Dumbledore's favourite student, I'll bet you all my money if any of you say he isn't," Finnegan argued back. "And Potter's been going 'round, sayin' that You-Know-Who is back, with no proof, not at all, just returning with Cedric's dead body -" Ed shivered at the words _Cedric's dead body -_ "and then sayin' You-Know-Who killed him, and he's back! I mean, what if _Potter_ finished him? So that Potter could win the Triwizard Tournament, get his big face in the newspaper again-"

"Triwizard Tournament is competition, is it not?" Ed interrupted. At Finnegan's nod, he was about to open his mouth but Ed continued, "I do not think Potter would kill someone to win. He is the only eye-witness to the death of this Cedric-"

"You weren't there!" Finnegan replied. "He just came back, holding the body, and he legitimately went up at the Great Hall and said, 'Cedric Diggory was killed by You-Know-Who!' I mean, how far-fetched is that?"

"Well, none of you lot were like this back at the feast that day," Thomas spoke up. "You all were shocked and sad at the death of Cedric-"

"That's because it's a tragedy! No-one thinks right soon after somebody dies!" Ed had to silently agree with Finnegan. "It was the end of the Tournament, and Cedric was dead, Potter said that You-Know-Who killed him, even if he had been killed all those years ago..." Longbottom and Thomas opened their mouths, but Finnegan waved them down. "I mean, how does somebody come back from the dead?"

"They don't," Ed said immediately, almost like a reflex impulse. The three boys turned to look at him, but Ed was sure he had made his point. _No-one_ came back from the dead, no matter how much you wanted it to be true, or how much you wanted to believe in it - no-one came back from the dead, and Ed, shifting his gloved automail hand, learned _that_ lesson the hard way. Death made no exceptions. Death was universal, and it was a fact no-one could escape, not in Amestris and not here in the magical world.

Later in the day, Ed reluctantly went with Ron and Harry down to the pitch for some 'quidditch' practice. He had wanted to go to the library, but then he remembered how his 'real' job in Hogwarts was to be Harry's bodyguard, so he borrowed a book on a book for Transfiguration and ambled behind them towards the pitch.

He remembered how it had been a long time since he and his brother had seen a sport, let alone play one. Ed had always spent his time sparring and duelling with his brother and sometimes other willing state alchemists in the military - there had been no need for sports, Ed never had time for it and many state alchemists and soldiers led perfectly active lives anyway, but he remembered how Amestris was in favour of quite a few team sports, sending teams to play in games with the other three countries - Creta to the west, Aerugo to the south and sometimes eastern Xing and Drachma in the north (not that any of the countries liked Amestris too much anyways), and how his childhood self and his friends in Resembool would listen fervently to the radio and hunt down the sports newspapers, in the hope of news on their favourite teams. Ed shook his head. It was a thing of the past now.

Ed took his seat down at the audience stands and boredly watched the Gryffindor team, now clad in red sports robes, and now on brooms. He wondered whether the person who had invented this sport on brooms had enough sanity. He was sure that brooms were only for cleaning and brushing down dust, a household article for clean, non-mess-loving people like Granny Pinako. He looked up and saw a few other students, either with red and green ties take seats down to watch. Then he noticed another team of green-robed students, still on brooms, fly their way onto the field.

Immediately, jeers and catcalls from the red-tied students. Then Ed remembered he heard the same from the greens when the reds appeared.

He heard a familiar sneering drawl, and Ed looked down to see that Malfoy person from the Slytherins was down on the team. He chuckled a little; Malfoy looked very small compared to his bulky team members. He couldn't hear entirely what they were saying, but it must have been very funny, for the Slytherins on the pitch began to laugh.

When the practises began, Ed noticed that Ron seemed to be struggling, much to the Slytherins' amusement. The ball that had been kicked towards him had been carelessly missed several times, and one time, Ed winced when Ron kicked the red ball _too_ hard, and it hit his team-mate's face. The greens' laughter couldn't have been any louder.

He wasn't any expert for sports, but Ed was sure that the practice had been too short, and he found out why: one of the girls had started to have a nosebleed. The green Slytherins began to chant with a catchy tune, 'Gryffindor are losers, Gryffindor are losers'. Ed made his way back to Harry and Ron and it seemed like Hermione had joined them.

"It's only your first one," he heard Hermione's attempt to console and reassure Ron, "it's bound to take time to-"

"So it's my fault then?" Ron shot back.

"It's no-one's fault, Ron, I just thought-"

"I was going to mess up?" he snapped.

"No, no! I'd never do that! Look, you said it was lousy-" Hermione had never any chance to finish, because Ron had stormed away, saying he was going to finish homework, and Harry turned to Hermione, asking if Ron was lousy. When they had done that, Harry turned to Ed, to his surprise. "You saw Ron play, didn't you?"

"Er..."

"Do you think he was lousy?"

"Well..." Ed wanted to say yes, but he felt careful not to, as he perfectly knew Ron was Harry's best friend. "He just need more practise."

He walked away from Harry and Hermione, and sighed. He made a mental note in his head to never attend any of the 'quidditch' sessions or games again. It had been a waste of his time, and the 'Gryffindors are losers' chant echoed repeatedly in his head.

He headed to the library.

* * *

Hermione walked up to them, aware that the time was a half hour away from midnight, helping them on their Astronomy homework.

She felt a little guilty now, since Ron had stomped away earlier in the day, and she tried to reconcile by helping him out, but it hadn't turned out well. Ron was beginning an argument with her, but Hermione simply stopped him by turning his direction to the window of the common room. The trio gaped. There were two owls helplessly scratching the glass from outside, and one of them seemed familiar...

"Isn't that Hermes?" Hermione said, sounding amazed, as Ron reached up to let the two owls in. Percy? What was Percy doing, talking to them, especially around this time - it was late, and wasn't he standing with the Ministry? Hermes and the other owl flew in, and in unison, held their legs up, letters tied to each of them.

"I know this one's Percy's," Ron pointed at Hermes, marked _Ron Weasley, Gryffindor House, Hogwarts._ But then he pointed at the other owl. "Who's one is this for?"

Hermione untied the letter from the unknown owl's leg. _Harry Potter, Grifindor (?) House, Hogwarts._ The writing was a little sloppy and messy, but Hermione had to admit that this handwriting was _definitely_ better than worse ones she had seen... she thought of Edward's messy handwriting. She handed it to Harry, who wondered whether this was a response from Sirius.

"I don't think so," she said. "The writing doesn't look like Sirius'. And I'm sure he knows how to spell 'Gryffindor' right."

"Maybe..." Harry opened his letter, and Ron opened his mail from Percy, leaving Hermione as the third wheel. The reactions to the two boys' respective letters were ultimately different: Harry's eyes widened and his eyebrows raised up with curiosity; meanwhile Ron, as he read down the parchment, his scowl became more deep and pronounced that Hermione became worried whether that scowl was becoming permanent. He made a disgusted noise, and then handed the letter to Harry and Hermione to read.

The letter disgusted Hermione also; it spoke a lot of avoiding friendship with Harry Potter, and his negative attitude towards him and Dumbledore, and his loyal allegiance standing with the Ministry. Hermione made a note of reading the _Daily Prophet_ tomorrow, as Percy's words stated that they _would get a good idea of the way of the wind is blowing._ Harry shook his head angrily, possibly at the words _'he can be unbalanced and, for all I know, violent...'_

When they had finished reading it, Ron angrily snatched the letter away, tearing it in half, then in quarters, then in eighths... then throwing it in the fire, swearing and flipping the bird at it. Hermione didn't feel compelled to stop him, and Ron finally muttered, "Rot in hell, son of a -" the last word was inaudible.

Then they looked at Harry, and he brought out the letter addressed to him. "I think you'll like this letter a lot better than Percy's..."

"You seem happy about what you're saying, so I bet it's someone who says they believe You-Know-Who is back-"

"No, but it's quite interesting." Hermione and Ron curiously moved over to behind Harry, and they read the letter:

 _Dear Harry Potter,_

 _That is your name, right? I apologise for my English, and any spelling, punctuation or grammar mistakes... it is very hard, with me trying to learn with a book. Lieutenant Hawkeye and her team are doing her best, but they are no better at English than I am. I can understand it very well now, however. Writing it... is a very different story._

 _Now, etiquette dictates I must introduce myself to you. I apologise for not doing this first - I am Alphonse Elric, and I am Edward Elric's younger brother by one year - I was born in 1900, Amestrian calendar... but according to your calender - I mean calendar - I was born in 1981, and I am fourteen years old. I hope you and your friends are doing well._

 _It would've been easier to use Owlbus (the owl used to send letters to Brother), but I don't want him to know that I'm worrying about him. Owlbus is probably with Brother now, maybe flying back to Amestris with a letter for me. This owl took a long time to find. It's from the military. But anyways..._

 _I would also like to apologise for my brother. I know him well, so I'm sure that he spends little time close to you, despite his job to stay close to you, is rude, and probably has a very short temper. But there is a reason for this._

 _I am very sure he is angry with the world. When we were very young, maybe three, four or five... our father left us. He simply said "Goodbye" to us and left. To this day, we do not know whether he is alive or dead. He has not contacted us or asked for us. A little after this, a sickness took over the east and infected our mother. She died a short while after this. We have relied on each other since. We have a friend, Winry Rockbell, and her grandmother, but we wish not to burden them with our own problems, especially when Winry's parents left as doctors in the Ishval War and never came home._

 _But now, my brother. We left our hometown so that we could reach a goal. Brother became a state alchemist for this matter, and faced pity and some hate, becoming an army lapdog at his age. Now he is far away. I miss him._

 _I love my brother, even though he does not listen, is rude, and has a bad temper and attitude. But that it what many people see on the outside. When you get to know him, he is caring, kind and funny. Right now he might not trust you. But that is because it has been a long time since Ed has been with people his age, besides me. For almost four years, since he was twelve, he was treated like an adult, growing up in a grown-up's world._

 _Despite all this, I ask a favour for you, but I do not know if it is small or big. Please remind him to take care of himself... sometimes he gets engrossed into something that he does not do simple things, like go to sleep, or eat meals, or drink milk_ (Ron snorted at this) _. Please make sure he attends all classes he is required to, and be nice to him. If you have any problems with him, or he is struggling, please do not hesitate to reply. Check on him from time to time. I mean, he's your bodyguard, checking on him once and a while would be equivalent exchange, as we alchemists say!_

 _I hope my favour doesn't burden you. Thank you, and I apologise once again. (If you have any questions, please send back - address to Lieutenant Hawkeye's house is on the back._

 _Yours sincerely,  
Alphonse Elric_

 _PS: My brother does not need to know about this letter. One reason I sent this owl later than Ed's was so he wouldn't be able to know that I sent this. But thank you a lot once again._

"He has good English," Hermione noted. "He spelled Gryffindor wrong, but the whole letter was correct enough?"

 _"WOW,_ Hermione," Ron shook his head. "I got a different result from the letter. Haven't you noticed that they're orphans? Like, from a young age?"

"The way that Alphonse is writing, it sounds like Alphonse is more of Elric's _parent_ than younger brother," Harry said.

"So currently, Alphonse is staying with this 'Lieutenant Hawkeye'," Hermione said.

"He sounds like he's from the army," Ron said.

"Or _she,"_ Hermione added, "and yes, they do look like they're from the military. After all, only soldiers have 'Lieutenant' before their name."

Harry kept silent. He read the letter again, and said, "Well, so what do we do - OW!"

The owl that had sent Alphonse's letter pecked at his finger, and hooted sharply. Hermes, however, had already taken off into the night. It flew back to the window, still hooting irritably, and held out its left leg. _I thought we already took its letter,_ Hermione thought, then approached the owl, which now seemed to have another envelope with it. Hermione untied the letter, and Ron gave it some owl treats meant for Pigwidgeon. The letter again was addressed to Harry: _Harry Potter, House Common Room, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._ The handwriting was a little neater, and it was written in a little cursive.

"Did Alphonse write another letter?" Harry queried, as he carefully put back Alphonse's letter in the envelope.

"This doesn't look like Alphonse's handwriting," said Hermione. She noticed, next to the address to Harry, was a large rectangular stamp. It showed a white argent dragon rampant and emblazoned on a background of green. Harry and Ron went on each side to her, and Ron pointed at the stamp. "Whoa, I've never seen a crest like that before..."

"It's the Amestrian flag," Hermione explained. "The dragon is supposed to represent the might of Amestris and its military-"

"Dragon? That's not a dragon; that's a seahorse," Ron grumbled, as Harry took the envelope from Hermione and opened it,

 _To Harry Potter,_

 _Like Alphonse, I would like to apologise for any English mistakes I have in this letter. If you read his letter first, you must know that Alphonse, myself and my team are learning English, but are at a standstill for our lack of proper training. English is rarely spoken in this country, as Amestrian and Ishvalan are the main languages used in Amestris. Creta, our country to the west, is the country that has a minority of people speaking English._

 _My name is Riza Hawkeye, a soldier in the Amestrian State Military. My rank is 1st Lieutenant, and I am Colonel Roy Mustang's personal adjutant and bodyguard, and I am replacing his place as leader of his unit during his absence._

 _My letter will hopefully be shorter than Alphonse's, as what I ask is similar, to regularly check up on Edward and maintain his wellbeing. I ask for you to do the same to the Colonel._

 _He may be more easier to handle, hopefully. Make sure he is doing well. Also, if Edward has not reminded him, please tell him his report is becoming very overdue (I think to Edward's pleasure). Those two need looking after, I think, and I worry partially for their safety._

 _One reason those two certain alchemists have been sent abroad is not just their level of expertise in alchemy and combat, but because a criminal we call Scar has become active. He has succeeded in killing several state alchemists in the Eastern Area, and both Edward and the Colonel are very famous names in the area that Scar has been active, and have become two targets. In fact, Edward has already had a near-death experience with him already. By sending those two abroad, they will be safe._

 _Also, a warning: do not underestimate them. This may not apply to you, but to others who doubt their talents to finish the mission successfully. Edward was not chosen as a state alchemist at such a young age for no reason. He knows more alchemy than most. As for the Colonel, he is a soldier of war. He, like many other soldiers, fought in the scarring Ishval War. They are both capable alchemists, and the two best the East Area (if not the whole country) can offer._

 _Thank you for your time. Any questions, feel free to ask Alphonse and myself, and please say hello to the Colonel and Edward for me._

 _Yours sincerely,_  
1st Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye

 _PS: Just what Alphonse said. Edward nor Mustang needs to know about these letters. Thank you very much._

"See, it _was_ a she," Hermione said to Ron, who rolled his eyes.

"Whoa," Harry said. "A murderer is after them? The military sent Elric and Mustang here because they were targeted? Isn't that just using the wizards?"

"But then again, the Ministry asked of them two to come in the first place, so they would've come here, criminal or not," Hermione replied. "And, mind, the Order took advantage of this and asked of a second request to be your bodyguards. So basically, we're using the alchemists too. It's a win-win. Or equivalent exchange, as the alchemists say."

"Equivalent exchange? From the letter?" Ron asked.

Hermione nodded. "It's alchemy's number one law. Edward told me to create, something of equal value must be lost. He explained this in Transfiguration to Professor McGonagall, remember?"

"Oh, the wooden snail," Ron recalled.

"But the thing is..." Hermione said thoughtfully. "The book Umbridge set us, _Magical Theory on the Art of Alchemy..._ it mentioned nothing about Equivalent Exchange or the two sub-laws that came from it."

"If it's Umbridge, it's trash," Harry said bitterly. "Elric said it himself just last night. It was trash and everything about it was wrong." He sighed. "But back to the topic of the letters. I guess it wouldn't hurt doing what Alphonse asked..."

Ron grinned. "Yeah. I mean, babysitting another book-nerd would be fine..." his eyes gleamed as he faced Hermione. She hmph-ed. "I'm _not_ a book-nerd-"

"You're clever, though," Ron said, and that shut her up. "Besides, it would be fun trying to force Elric to drink his milk..."

"Ron!" Hermione glared at him, and he shrugged.

The conversation quickly turned from Alphonse and Lieutenant Hawkeye's letters to Harry and Ron's study habits, and the lending of Hermione's homework (she beamed when Ron and Harry thanked her and called her a 'lifesaver'. Harry had looked even more downfallen, however, after reading the letter from Percy. They did this and copied - no, _paraphrased_ Hermione's homework onto their own rolls of parchment until, surprisingly, Sirius' head had appeared in the fire, and the three, together with Sirius, entered a deep discussion.

* * *

 _BONUS:  
_ _A week before the events of Chapter One, where Roy announced to Ed the mission_

In his office in Central HQ, the Fuhrer-President sighed.

The letters from Cornelius Fudge, the 'Minister of Magic', and Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of the school 'Hogwarts', lay on his desk. He was unsure how to respond them.

He had plenty of state alchemists to choose from. Not as many as before, as Scar had killed some of them, but still plenty. Their military files lay on the desk, and he had selected the best. Alex Louis Armstrong, the Strong Arm Alchemist. Giolio Comanche, the peg-leg Silver Alchemist. The katana-sword-obsessed Aston Martins, the Thunder Alchemist. He had plenty of other choices as well to pick from, but the two he wanted the most: Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, and Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist.

But... this would bring an obstacle in their plans. The Promised Day plans. One definite candidate and one possible candidate being sent away for a ten-month mission. Bradley clicked his tongue thoughtfully. It would not be good to refuse the mission, but having Edward Elric and Roy Mustang, the best alchemists of the job, would mean that they would have to continue searching for a replacement candidate just in case for the Promised Day.

"What's troubling you, Wrath?"

Bradley turned, and noticed that Selim Bradley had approached his desk, a small childish smile playing on his lips. However, Bradley - Wrath - knew better. This was the smile of a Homunculus: Pride, under the constructed persona of five year old Selim Bradley. "You seem worried."

Wrath handed him the letters he had been sent. When Pride had finished reading it, the Fuhrer said, "It would be good to send Mustang and Elric on the mission, but this would disrupt plans for the Promised Day."

"Mmmm." Pride looked at the letters thoughtfully. "If I were you, I would've sent other alchemists. But I have a message from Father and Envy."

"And what would that be, Pride?" Wrath asked.

"He said send Edward Elric and Roy Mustang."

Bradley widened his eyes. "Why them? Does he not know that they are the two candidates that could help put our plan into action?"

"Do not question Father's wisdom," Pride glared. "He is yet to create more places of blood; he needs to plan. The next eclipse will be in 2-3 years. Father will have enough time to sort out another plan by then. Besides..." He tapped his small chin thoughtfully - a strange sight for a five-year-old child to do so. I feel the current plan we have now will lead to failure and destruction."

"I thought we were not to question Father's wisdom," Wrath smiled thinly.

"I am not, Wrath," Pride said.

"How are the riots in Liore going?"

"Good," Pride replied. "Envy is doing a good job of dividing the city. Indeed, we should've had Envy in the first place, rather than Cornello himself be the leader of Liore's precious cult. But," he coughed, "Grumman is beginning to send eastern troops to deal with the violence."

"We'll send Central troops there soon," Bradley reassured. He took the military files for Elric and Mustang. "So, I send them two?"

"Yes," Pride said. "Besides, Scar is on the prowl currently. It would be one good reason to keep them in top condition for the Promised Day. And one more thing... Alphonse is not to be sent on the mission as well. Father made that quite clear. He wants to monitor him, so he wishes that one of your soldiers look after him so he will be easy to track."

Wrath nodded. "One of Mustang's friends, I think. Tell Father I will do it now. Mrs. Bradley will not return until late into the night, so your absence will not be questioned." Pride nodded and left. When the door closed, Wrath sighed and brought out his pen.

Diplomacy. That was the reason why the Ministry had asked for them in the first place, wasn't it?

Wrath almost smiled at the thought of Elric, the little short-tempered alchemist and his higher officer Mustang, two state alchemists in a world full of magic.

 _This is diplomacy,_ Bradley thought as he wrote the letter for Cornelius Fudge. _And I have a slight feeling in my body that it will go wrong._

He signed off the paper.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading Chapter 9._

 _Would you like more Amestrian point of views in the story? If so, and if you have ideas, I'd be happy to hear it._


	10. Chapter 10

**MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM: DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR**

Ed scanned the title of the newspaper, and he suspected nothing good. He squinted his eyes to check his English reading skill; yes, Umbridge herself was appointed a new job - 'High Inquisitor', whatever that meant.

He grimaced at the large picture spread at the top of the page. She was smiling widely, waving happily as if she was welcoming kindergarteners to their new big school.

The fact that the Ministry of Magic was 'looking after' the education of Hogwarts reminded him of how Umbridge had spoken, her tone and words making it evident she wanted the students to feel grateful for 'fixing' their education and turning it towards the right direction. He widened his eyes at the words spoken by this 'Percy Weasley.' Surely someone who seemed to stand with the Ministry and helped with the new 'legislation' _couldn't_ be related to a family like the Weasleys? The newspaper seemed to be mostly mere propaganda, Ed noticed, saying that Umbridge had been an 'immediate success' and was 'revolutionising the teaching of Defence Against the Dark Arts'.

Ed thought back to his first time at Hogwarts, at the feast after Umbridge's introductory speech, how Hermione said that the Ministry was beginning to interfere at Hogwarts. He couldn't help but admire her prediction for being right. Someone named Lucius Malfoy had spoken in the paper, and Ed couldn't help but think that this Lucius was _definitely_ related to the Malfoy he had met here in the school. Malfoy had been right about one thing; he had said that his family had good connections. Apparently this was the leading factor to have a _mansion,_ as the newspaper said.

Ed pondered a little over one paragraph, speaking of 'controversial' teachers. _Werewolf Remus Lupin..._ his thoughts flashed to a man wearing shabby robes, the one who had given him his school books, the one with a kind smile. He was a werewolf? Ed's mind burned with questions, and he wasn't sure whether they were going to be answered. _Half-giant Rubeus Hagrid... Delusional ex-Auror "Mad-Eye" Moody..._ Harry had told Ed that _that_ Moody was an imposter, the Moody at the school. The 'controversial' teachers reminded Ed a little of the discrimination in Amestris against survivors and their children in the Ishval War.

He agreed with the last part, when it said that two people had resigned over their jobs at the 'Wizengamot' (whatever that was), and that one of them said it was a 'further disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore.'

 _What the fucking hell, wizards._ In Ed's opinion, they seemed like they were very slow in believing.

News of Umbridge's new appointment as Inquisitor had spread quicker than Harry and Umbridge's argument in class; the whole Gryffindor table had a copy of the _Daily Prophet -_ not just Gryffindor, but other houses too. Ed could faintly hear Malfoy in the Slytherin table, boasting about how his father had received an 'exclusive' interview with the _Prophet._

The paper had said that Umbridge was to expect other teachers, and Ed made a note to tell Mustang the next time he saw him to keep more of a watchful eye around Umbridge. He had been more angry with Umbridge now, since she had issued them the book, since Ed had read the stupid book on 'alchemy.'

History of Magic had been most of a blur for Ed, with their _ghost_ teacher lecturing on and on as usual. Most of his classmates had drifted off to sleep; Hermione, however, took down notes frantically, and Ed noticed she was the only one doing this. Umbridge had not come to inspect the lesson, and Ed could understand a little; as soon as Binns' voice reached her ears she would've already entered the land of Nod.

Double Potions was next, and Snape handed back the essays for the uses of moonstone in potion-making. "I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you had written this for OWL," he smirked, and Ed suspected that the smirk was for the Gryffindors and the Gryffindors alone. "OWL expectations are high; this is only a small taste of what you will be expecting." He went on to explain that the homework was done at such a dreadful standard, and that most of the class would have failed the exams with their 'D' marks.

When the professor had handed back Ed's essay, he glanced at the top right corner; a sleek black 'E' covered most of the certain area.

"Your theory work seems to be... _acceptable_ enough, definitely exceeding my expectations. This would be the paper that would give you a little of a higher mark, as your potion-making is terribly abysmal."

Ed sighed as he left. Some of his fellow peers looked at him with mouths open; Ron and his friends were sitting on the table next to his; he mouthed _How did you do that?_ Ed looked back at his paper; it was an essay that he had bullshit the whole way through, after a cram session in the library. However, judging by his classmates' faces, 'E' must have been a good grade, though he did not understand what it meant. He placed it in his bag, and opened his book to prepare for the Strengthening Solution. It was a little easier, but almost as complicated and fiddly as the Draught of Peace from before. Ed felt pleased with his result - he was sure that he had been careful with measurements, and placing them in with precision and accuracy, but with Snape's steely glare at his sample as he placed it on his desk made Ed wonder whether he had forgotten something.

He, for the first time, joined Harry and his friends out of his own will at the lunch table, but Ed was sure to keep enough space between himself and them. Hermione talked quickly, on and on, about the grades and the homework and the preparation for OWLs, and he was sure that she was killing the neutral mood throughout their space at the table.

Ed had been surprised when Ron had said he had received a 'P' for his essay; and was even more surprised when he learned, through the Weasley twins and their friend that the magical marking system had included three fail grades - 'P' meaning 'Poor', and 'D' - Dreadful.

"So, Elric, m'boy," Fred (or George?) slapped him hard on the back. "What did you get for Snape's essay?"

Ed mumbled through a mouthful of pie, then he swallowed and said, still with softness in his tone, "'E'", and Hermione dropped her spoon onto the floor.

"Whoa, it takes a miracle to get that in _Snape's_ class," George whistled.

"Especially when you're in the Gryffindor house," the twins' friend agreed. "Or is it because you're the 'new foreign student?' That's bound to die down soon."

Back in Amestris, its education system had also had a marking structure, except that it was a lot easier - at least Ed remembered back in elementary, but he was sure the marking applied for higher and secondary education as well. It had included A, B, C, D and E - with different achievements: the higher the letter, the higher the achievement and mark. Hogwarts seemed to want to put down its students a lot, Ed thought, as he learned new marks: 'O' for Outstanding, 'E' meant 'Exceeds Expectations' (he had not laughed with the others when the twins said their joke), and the final pass grade being 'A' - 'Acceptable.' But he did not understand the need to put students down by giving them grades such as 'Poor', 'Dreadful', and even worse, 'Troll.'

"What's the marking system back in Amestris?" Ron asked Ed, who had looked up from reaching for a second helping of lunch.

He swallowed. "Well... easier."

"Easier. That's refreshing to hear," smirked George. Thankfully, the discussion had quickly headed towards lessons inspected by Umbridge. When lunch was finished, Harry and Ron headed to Divination, Hermione to her strangely-sounding-like-the-word-arithmetic subject, and Ed stood and went to the library.

He didn't really like the books from there, and he had gained a little dislike for the wizards already because of their interpretation of alchemy. They were very lacking in information, and it was as if advanced alchemy was non-existent. Even the most rudimentary texts in the state-alchemist-exclusive archives of the Central Library contained more useful alchemic knowledge than the books he found in Hogwarts. But still, it was worth to still look.

* * *

Harry took out his two books needed for Defence Against the Dark Arts: _Defensive Magical Theory,_ and _Magical Theory on the Art of Alchemy._

He had barely read the former book, while reading none of the latter at all. And if Elric thought it was all wrong, all trash, he wondered if there was any reason to even bother reading it. Umbridge instructed everyone to put their wands away, and Harry watched the few hopeful, now disappointed, return them to their bags. "I assume you have read Chapter 1 of _Magical Theory on the Art of Alchemy?"_ Unbeknownst to her, Mustang made a slight forced cough behind, and for a second his face had shown partial disgust. "Please turn to page nineteen of _Defensive_ _Magical Theory_ and commence 'Chapter Two, Common Defensive Theories and their Derivation.' There will be no need to talk."

A large defeated sigh was heard throughout the whole room, and then silence fell, the only sounds being the flipping of pages and the occasional scratching of quill on parchment. To his surprise, Hermione had instantly shot her hand up.

Umbridge, probably not wanting a repeat of their first lesson, walked over to Hermione and whispered in her ear, and Harry leaned closer towards page nineteen, hoping to eavesdrop: "What is it, Miss Granger?"

"I've already read Chapter Two," and Harry almost rolled his eyes. Hermione may be one of his best friends, but hell, was she an overachiever. Umbridge told her to proceed to the next chapter, then to Harry's non-amazement, she had finished the whole book. Then Umbridge told her to read _Magical Theory on the Art of Alchemy,_ Chapter Two. To even more non-surprise, he found out Hermione had already completed the book.

"Well, then, for _Defensive Magical Theory,_ I would like you to tell me what Slinkhard states in Chapter Fifteen. About counter-jinxes, dear." Her voice dripped of a challenge, and it seemed like it was a challenge Hermione was ready to take. The rest of the class had halted their reading and stared at her.

"Counter-jinxes are improperly named," Hermione said. "That's what he states. He says the name 'counter-jinx' is a name given to jinxes when the namer wishes to make them sound a lot more acceptable. But," Hermione continued as Umbridge opened her mouth, "I disagree. I have a few other disagreements with the alchemy book you set us, too."

Elric, who had been sitting a few tables away, had been busy doing God knows what, until Hermione had mentioned the alchemy book. He sat up straight, and even though Harry couldn't see his expression properly, through his long bangs, he knew that he was listening intently to every word. Mustang had also looked up from his marking of parchments, and he turned his gaze towards Hermione.

"It mentions almost nothing about the alchemy laws. The number one rule of alchemy is the Equivalent Exchange, and its two sub-laws birthed of it are the laws of Mass Conservation and Providence. The principle is the same: to create, something of equal value must be lost. But none of that is mentioned here in the book. It's mostly nonsense about how alchemy is like the offspring of magic, created by Muggles who had discovered wizards and wanted to create magic at all-"

"Well, Miss Granger, for both books, this is not your business to contradict them," Umbridge said rather sharply. "Five points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger."

Cue the outbreak of angry and indignant muttering and gasps at this. Harry suddenly stood up.

"What for?!" he spluttered angrily, ignoring Hermione's warnings and pleas to not get involved.

"Sit _down,_ Mr Potter," Umbridge said, making her stupid _hem hem_ cough that Harry doubted the genuineness of. She turned back to Hermione. "The five points are for the pointless disruption of my class. Miss Granger, know you are still a young woman. You are not a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, and you are not an alchemist-"

"Ask _them,_ then!" Harry indignantly pointed to Elric, who widened his eyes into round circles, and then at Mustang, who did the same. _"They're_ alchemists, _they'll_ know whether what Hermione is saying is right or not! If it's a basic law, they're bound to know what it is-"

"Ten points from Gryffindor for interruption, Mr Potter!" Umbridge said, almost triumphantly. She continued on with a speech, sounding as if she was quite fond of the words 'Ministry-approved' and that 'wrong' opinions barely mattered. She mentioned Professor Quirrell, and Harry's memories of _that_ teacher, _that_ turban and what lay concealed within it caused him to say, coldly and loudly, "Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher, Don't mind the tiny drawback of him having Lord Voldemort hiding under his oversized purple turban."

Silence. A long, painful silence. The class looked at him, some slapped their foreheads, others just stared. But none of that mattered, it did not change Umbridge's final verdict:

"I think another detention would be able to teach you to keep in line, Mr Potter."

Harry sat down, anger seething through his bones, flowing through his blood. Hermione whispered to him, "I _told_ you not to interfere-" but Harry paid no attention to these words. No point now, especially when he had to go back and face the Blood Quill, spending hour upon hour bleeding, 'I must not tell lies' being etched more and more deeply into his skin. There was silence for another ten minutes, then Elric put up his hand. Umbridge looked at him sweetly with her ugly toad face, and said in an even worse sweet voice, with a sweet smile enough to rot the teeth off anyone, "What is it, Mr Elric?"

"I think what Hermione say is right. Read book as well. Does not contain any of Equivalent Exchange, or any other laws in alchemy. Book does not contain any correct information-"

"Mr Elric, I understand you are new here, but you must abide by the rules in this magical world. This is what the magical world believe in the topic of alchemy, Ministry-approved-"

"-then change your stupid f- Ministry," Elric said angrily, and Harry thought it was good that he had restrained himself from saying the 'f'-word in front of the teacher, especially Umbridge. "This is wrong... book is wrong. Get proper alchemists to write it. Do not write about topics that you not know nothing of." Elric coughed. "And Potter... I remember last lesson. How do you know that it was not your dark wizard that killed this Cedric person? Perhaps he _could_ be back."

A silence, a little more painful than the one than the one for Harry, then -

"Five points from Gryffindor, Mr Elric, and I think detention tonight would help you to understand... and I think that Mr Potter has been spreading his fibs to you as well. Tonight, Mr Elric, with Mr Potter. Just tonight, Mr Elric, to write lines. I hope to see you there..."

Elric said nothing; he did not look angry, instead he took _Defensive Magical Theory_ and read Chapter Two, not paying attention to the stares he had received, or the shocked expressions. Umbridge looked pleased with herself, making a small _hem hem_ cough and then returning to her desk. Harry looked at Mustang; he seemed to be confused as well. _I guess Elric was really that mad about the book..._ Harry thought, but why had he mentioned Cedric Diggory and Voldemort? There had been no need to do so. This made Harry suspect that Elric's disruption and his statements was a plan, to get himself into detention. Either that or he had a good memory, along with a short temper. Maybe both.

There was a reason why Elric had decided to go into detention, and Harry wanted to know why. But the alchemist seemed to avoid him a lot in the hours following the Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson; he was the last to arrive in the classroom and the first to pack up his things speedily and leave. At dinner, the alchemist sat far from them and everyone else, and Harry noticed Nearly Headless Nick wander over to him, making Elric a little nervous and uncomfortable. Then Ed stood and left the table hastily after his short encounter with the ghost.

The time for detention came, and Harry was surprised to see Elric not too far from him as he opened the door to the office. He winced at the pink explosion in Umbridge's office; he had hoped never to see them again. _I guess I was wrong,_ Harry thought as he took his place at the desk. Elric closed the door, and without making any eye contact with Harry or Umbridge, took his seat next to him.

"Alright," Umbridge clapped her hands together twice, as if she was about to begin a show of some sort, "you know what to do, Mr Potter. Mr Elric - oh, there's no need for quills, dear," she quipped as Elric took out his feather quill and began to place it on the table. Still expressionless, the Amestrian returned the quill and waited patiently, tapping his forefinger lightly on the table. "You'll be using one of mine... I'll just prepare it... the ink..."

She got out the Blood Quill for Harry, and watched as she got out another one for Elric. _She has another one?_ he thought irritably. But before Umbridge gave Elric the quill, she said, "Please take off your gloves for me, Mr Elric? I'm sure you don't need them for the detention. You can always put them back on when the detention is done."

Elric gave her a steely glare. "So gloves are not needed?"

"No, they are not. I ask of you to take them off. There is no reason-"

"I am not required or needed to divulge my reasons," Elric said quietly. "Due to these reasons, am permitted to keep gloves on. Besides, just writing lines. There is no no need to take off gloves for writing lines, is there not?"

Umbridge frowned. "I will speak to the Headmaster about these 'reasons', Mr Elric." She handed him the Blood Quill, and Harry was sure that she had only let him go because he was a new student, and that he could easily report to Mustang about the truth of the quills used. But through what Harry remembered, he was sure he had never seen Elric without his gloves. He was only sure he had taken them off because at the end of the day, the gloves had a little dirt, sweat or grease, and the next day, the gloves were all good and clean and new and fresh. But he was sure he never saw Elric without them.

Elric took the Quill in his right hand. Umbridge glanced at him and said, "You know the routine, Mr Potter... 'I must not tell lies', unless you've forgotten. And Mr Elric... 'I must not talk back.' You may start now."

Harry slowly began writing the letter 'I', pain instantly searing through the words cut in his hand. The wound was slowly beginning to heal now that it had not been opened and and re-opened every night. He sighed, and thought of plenty of swear words he would've liked to say in Umbridge's face. He almost smiled. It almost made him forget the pain. Careful not to let out any signs that he was struggling against the pain, Harry took a glance to the right to Elric, who looked confused. He put up his hand, and Umbridge asked sweetly, as if they weren't in detention, "Yes?"

"Need writing thingy... ink," he replied.

"Oh, no," Umbridge smiled even wider. "Just write. It's _magic,"_ she added, probably to make Elric interested, but he simply nodded with no expression visible on his face, and Harry wished he could have warned him about the Blood Quill sooner. She turned away, but to her surprise, Elric shook his head and said, "Does not work."

"What do you mean? Surely..." To demonstrate, Elric placed down his quill and began to write 'I must not talk back', but no ink appeared - or more precisely, there was no instant opening of wound, not a single drop of red liquid staining the white fabric of the glove. Umbridge widened her eyes, and said, "Well... that must be faulty... wait here, Mr Elric..." Umbridge shuffled away, and handed Elric another Blood Quill. The alchemist took the new quill, and began to write, but shook his head and said, "Is faulty too." This process repeated and repeated again and again, it took Harry's mind away from the pain in his hand as he wrote. As Umbridge shuffled away for what seemed the umpteenth time, Harry showed Elric his hand and mouthed: _This is what she will do to you._

Elric widened his eyes in horror seeing 'I must not tell lies' carved into his skin, then he mouthed something like: _Do not worry. I will sort this out._

Harry sighed, and quickly resumed his lines as Umbridge came back with her Blood Quill. "Right," she breathed. "This is the last. I don't have anymore. Try this, Mr Elric."

Elric tried it again. No ink. Umbridge bit her lip, and Harry was sure she was struggling to refrain from shouting at him. At last, after a long pause, Umbridge went out, then returned with a pot of ink and a different quill - a pink, over-the-top feathery one, with sparkles and glitter. Behind Umbridge's back, Elric winced, and Harry couldn't help but do the same. "Now, Mr Elric," she smiled, "please start your lines." Elric nodded, and he dipped his quill in the dark purple ink. Umbridge noticed Harry looking at him, and she said, "Now, Mr Potter, staring is considered rude manners... please continue your lines."

When they finally were allowed out, Harry clutching his wounded hand in the other, he saw Elric rush out and head towards the dormitory at quite a fast speed. "Hey, wait - ELRIC!" and finally, the alchemist turned around. "What you want?"

"How did you do that?"

"Do what?" Elric looked genuinely confused.

"The Blood Quill, look what she did to me!" Elric gazed observantly at the words 'I must not tell lies' and nodded, and Harry continued, "But it didn't work for you - how in _hell_ weren't you able to use Umbridge's quill?"

He braved a small smile. "Am special that way." As Elric turned to leave, Harry had a second thought pass through his mind, and he asked, "Elric, what's _Hagane?"_

 _"Hagane?"_ Ed replied, and Harry commended himself for pronouncing it right. "Yeah. What does it mean?"

"Eh... Well... I do not know proper translation for word." He looked at Harry curiously. "How you know word _Hagane?_ It's Amestrian."

"Well, Mustang mentioned the name when talking to me once," Harry said, and he decided not to tell Elric the full story, the time when Mustang confronted him and named _Elric_ as _Hagane_ _._ Elric himself tapped his chin thoughtfully, and said, _"Hagane._ Um... do not know exact translation, but I am very sure... translation book... it says that it means 'steel.'"

"Steel?"

"Steel. Like sword steel. Hard steel. You know."

Then he rushed away.

* * *

"So he wasn't able to use the quill?" Ron asked. As Harry nodded, he bit his lip. "She should've at least given another quill to you..."

"What good would that make?" Harry scoffed indignantly. He held his scarred right hand in his other. "Besides, she wants the message of not telling lies to, ah, well... _sink in."_ He laughed weakly. "Sorry, that was a bad joke."

"Or at least make Elric use his left hand..."

Hermione clicked her tongue. "I still am sure I want you to tell _someone_ about this..."

"I'm telling you two, right?"

"You know what I mean, Harry! Tell someone _other_ than us that we can trust. If you don't want Dumbledore or McGonagall to know, tell Elric! He was in detention with you as well; did you tell him?"

Harry shook his head. Hermione clicked her tongue in disapproval again, then replied, "You shouldn't lose your temper at Umbridge again." As Harry opened his mouth to protest, she replied, "Angelina got mad at you again, didn't she, because you got into detention? And McGonagall took five points off of Gryffindor... you deserved those five points being taken away, to be frank, as much as I didn't want those points to be taken off-"

"Whose side are you on, Hermione?" Ron gaped.

"No-one's!" she yelped. "What I'm trying to say is that you shouldn't lose your temper at Umbridge again if you want to play Quidditch-"

"It's not like I _don't_ want to play Quidditch," Harry grumbled. "I _could_ be playing Quidditch, but no, I have to get stuck writing 'lines' for that Umbridge bastard for telling 'lies.'" He made quotation marks with his fingers at the last word. "Every night, my hand is being sliced open - Ah, forget it. I'm going up to bed."

He stormed away.

* * *

Umbridge's inspection of McGonagall had seemed to go well. Ed, noticing that he had carried the newspaper from breakfast (one with a large picture of the Minister of Magic waving, a plastered grin on his face), secretly used alchemy to change it into blank rolls of parchment. He saw Umbridge from the corner of his eye as he entered McGonagall's classroom, a clipboard and a quill accompanying her.

They had all received their essays back, and Ed was happy to see an 'O' on his paper on alchemy and magic in the field of Transfiguration, followed with the comment: _Well written. However, please refrain from writing your essays in the future that seem to bad-mouth magic -_ Ed knew she was talking about how he had wrote a few negative criticisms on _Magical Theory on the Art of Alchemy_.

The whole class was now going to focus on the Vanishment of mice. However, it was clearly evident that Umbridge wanted to have the attention focused to her on the class, but Ed felt impressed at the ways McGonagall used to shut her and her stupid _hem, hem_ coughs down. Ed smiled at the end of the lesson - Umbridge was looking fairly dismal, a grim expression clearly seen on every part of her face.

She had also went to inspect their class of Care of Magical Creatures, and Ed brought out his Bowtruckle drawing. He thought it was average, as drawing had never been a strength of his, especially with an automail arm - he had began learning to write properly with his metal arm immediately after the success of the automail implant surgery, but he had never bothered to draw with it. He felt that it was also hard trying to draw a Bowtruckle running around the table and struggling in his left fist when he had finally caught it, then it had almost died under Ed's compressing squeeze of his fist. The way he saw it, the quicker he drew the Bowtruckles, the sooner he wouldn't have to lay his gaze upon those horrible twig things, and that was good.

Ed had already collected enough information that Grubbly-Plank was not their usual teacher for the class; this person called 'Hagrid' was, and judging by the majority of the students' words, their attitude towards Hagrid and this class was not a positive one.

But what made Ed bury his face into his hands was the fact that Harry had lost his temper yet again, and it was not even a Defence Against the Dark Arts class. It had begun with Draco Malfoy, and how a 'Hippogriff' had attacked him in his earlier years. "Only because he was too stupid to listen to what Hagrid told him to do," Harry shot back angrily.

His two friends groaned in unison, almost like a song as Umbridge declared another night of detention for Harry.

When the bell sounded for the end of the period, he had been stopped from leaving by Malfoy. "Hey, Elric."

"What?" he felt irritated. _I want to go to the library..._

"Did you read _Magical Theory on the Art of Alchemy?"_ Malfoy asked, and Ed's lip curled in annoyance at the mention of that _fucking_ book.

"It is, well, very... _lacking..."_ Ed replied. _What the fucking hell, wizards,_ he thought. _The word 'l_ _acking' is just on top of the heap for that damn book..._

"Well, yes. This is why I have to ask you a favour-"

"No," Ed replied firmly.

"What? You did not even know what I was going to ask-"

"You are going to ask me to teach you alchemy," Ed said. "And I refuse."

He left the class, sprinting away to the library. When he went there, he went back to the tiny alchemy section and skimmed through the book. Looking back at it, the texts in the Hogwarts library were very lacking, and the content was very little, despite the fact Hogwarts was larger than Central National Library's and had a hundredfold more resources. He went to place back the book, and was surprised to see Mustang there.

 _"Mustang!"_ Ed spluttered. He looked around quickly, then whispered, _"What are you doing here?"_

 _"Getting a book,"_ the Flame Alchemist shrugged in response. _"Isn't that what everyone does when they get to the library? Anyway... how was your detention with Umbridge yesterday, Fullmetal? Not bad, I hope?"_ Ed growled a little when he saw the little smirk playing on the bastard's face.

 _"Well..."_ Ed briefly recounted the time at the detention, and the torturous system of punishment from Umbridge and her Blood Quills, and the story of how the Blood Quill wouldn't work on his metal arm. Out of cautiousness, he was very careful not to say the word 'automail' or 'metal arm', just in case, despite no-one besides them two in the library could speak Amestrian, instead saying 'my right arm.' _"Also, Potter got a detention again today."_

 _"Oh, really? This is his second time, I think?"_

 _"Yeah. He wasn't able to keep his mouth shut. He HAD to lose his temper and get himself in detention-"_

 _"When you say that, Fullmetal, it sounds a lot like you. I mean, you lose your temper when someone calls you short or any variation of-"_

 _"DON'T - CALL - ME - SHORT!"_ Ed bellowed, then the librarian Madam Pince, angrily stomped to them and told them to be quiet. Mustang quickly took his book, waved farewell to Ed and left. Ed sighed; he took some books for his subjects and left the library.

Unbeknownst to both of them, an Extendable Ear had been poking out of one of the bookshelves. Hermione frowned. "I shouldn't have told you I know how to do the Translation Charm. We shouldn't eavesdrop-"

"Well, what if it had contained important information about Voldemort or the Order?" Harry whispered back.

"I doubt they'd discuss matters like that in the library, even if they were speaking in their language," Hermione replied. "I mean, it's a public space, and they're vulnerable enough to be overheard. I mean, that's what we did. And who knows, there could be more people using the Translation Charm to eavesdrop on them as well."

"Maybe," Ron nodded, "but it wasn't even anything useful. Just what happened at Harry and Elric's detention last night, and Elric being called 'short' again. It's a little funny too-"

"Whether it's funny or not doesn't matter," Harry grunted. "There could be important stuff. I mean, this is all some political waffle, right? The political waffle that brought them here. Maybe they know some stuff about the Ministry that we don't. Or maybe about the Order too, because they were the ones who told Elric to be my bodyguard. Or maybe," Harry's glasses glinted in the light, "maybe some information about Voldemort and his return-"

"Harry, you're missing the point," Hermione said. "There wasn't anything useful in what they said, so it doesn't matter. And in the future, let's all refrain from eavesdropping on them."

"But I have questions," Harry said firmly. "And they need to be answered."

"Yes, I _know,_ Harry," Hermione said, her expression showing that she did not want to start an argument, "but if you have plenty of questions - which I know you do - you should go and talk to Elric directly to see whether he knows."

"Would he even _tell_ me anything?" Harry asked. "Or maybe Dumbledore ordered him to shut up and swear not tell me, like you guys did back at Grimmauld."

"All right, mate, I know what you're getting out, but you're getting too off topic," Ron said, his voice having hints of nervousness and trembling. "That was a long time ago. Go see Elric if you have any problems or questions with him."

"Well, Elric has a lot of secrets anyway," Harry replied. "Don't you ever realise how strange it is for him to become a member of the military at his age?" When Hermione opened her mouth, he continued, "I mean, don't his parents know? And don't you ever notice that he never takes off his gloves? Back at our detention, Umbridge asked Elric to take his gloves off, but he refused."

"So does that mean he's scarred? From the military?" Ron asked.

"I don't know, but there are those questions I want to ask Elric about as well."

"You can't just go digging into his past, Harry," Hermione said. "But..." she tapped her chin thoughtfully. "The questions you asked are actually thoughtful ones, and I'm actually curious. But," she added as Harry and Ron opened their mouths to respond, "that doesn't give us any excuse to just start digging into his past life, and I'm very sure Elric won't be that offering at first to tell us about it, and neither would Mustang. The least would be that the Order knows a little about them, but I don't know."

That midnight, Harry clutched his bloody hand with his other as he departed Umbridge's office for the Gryffindor common room. Luckily, Hermione knew enough to soak Harry's hand in what she called 'Murtlap tentacles', and it was immediately soothing, while Ron and Hermione pondered over what to do next. When Hermione had thought of Umbridge simply as someone who wouldn't teach them properly for OWLs instead of some evil _hag_ who had sliced open Harry's hand every night, it had surprised him. It had also surprised Harry to hear the words "But this is more important than homework!" come out of her mouth.

What surprised Harry even more was the fact she and Ron wanted him to teach them Defence Against the Dark Arts. He had been sure they were joking; but the way they spoke, the lighted up expressions of their faces, the trembling excitement in their voices convinced him that they were not. They reminded him of his achievements throughout his five years at Hogwarts, and Harry had responded again and again that his friends had been there throughout the whole time, but his mind quickly took a time jump to Harry's first night at Grimmauld Place, yelling at them and telling them it had all been _his_ achievements. The memory was bitter in both memory and mouth. He felt like a hypocrite.

Then he was sure they had took it too far, and he yelled at them. Harry did _not_ want to teach, they did not endure the pain, suffering and agony he had during the countless times Harry had faced death in Voldemort's gaze, the shock and grief that had instantly hit him when Cedric suffered the inevitable impact of the Killing Curse.

Ron opened his mouth to reply, then stopped, turning towards the staircase leading to the common room. Of course, there was the sound of footsteps coming from there, but Harry wondered who would be up and running at this time and hour (excluding him, Ron and Hermione of course).

"Hey," Elric said. "You all too noisy. I cannot sleep." Harry studied him closely, and noticed that there was no sign of him sleeping anywhere on his face or body. He was probably lying, Harry thought, but it was something that wasn't worth thinking too much about.

"Sorry," Harry replied quickly, and Elric shook his head in response. "No, no worry, it fine." Then he smirked and turned to Ron and Hermione. "I heard you were going to start Defence group. That sounds interesting. What is that -" Elric said something in Amestrian - though Harry was not a speaker, he was sure it meant nothing good - "teaching anyway? I do not like theory. But Defence group? That is good. Not just for school, but also for the real world. You need to fight. You need to prepare for any attack. Anything could happen."

Ron nodded excitedly, and happily slapped Harry's back. "See, mate? Even Elric agrees!"

He looked at Elric then said, without thinking - the words had just slipped out of his mouth without knowing - "But Elric hasn't faced Voldemort. How can he have faced anything worse?"

Elric simply stared, and there was a painful pause, then: "No, I have not seen this Voldemort," the alchemist agreed. "But I am soldier of military. I know what it is like to fight. Fighting enemies is daily for me - yes, it is true," he added the last four words, looking at Hermione, who had gasped loudly - either at his words, or the calm tone that he said it in. " But enough of me. Voldemort - he must be very, very bad enough to get us - Mustang and me - to protect you from him. But if Voldemort is back, having a Defence group will be good to prepare yourself in skills that could save your life and lives of other people. Besides," he added, shrugging, "it will make my job easier to bodyguard you. I will not be here after this year."

"Y-Yes," Hermione began, stammering a little, a nervous tone in her voice, and it was clearly evident that she wanted to avoid Harry's anger as much as possible. "This is why w-we need y-you, Harry... we need to p-prepare ourselves... when we f-face him... we need to know what it's like... f-facing... V-V-Voldemort."

Ron gasped and flinched as soon as the name was spoken, but Harry ignored this. _Since when did Hermione say Voldemort's name?_ He felt very impressed, and this had calmed Harry down, enough for Hermione to ask him once more to have a Defence group, and against every part of his body, he nodded. _I hope nothing goes too bad..._

Once that had been settled, Elric yawned, and said quickly to them, "Well, that is it? Defence group is in planning now? Okay, goodnight." He rushed up the stairs, two at a time, and disappeared. Hermione also wisely chose this time to leave them as well, and after using the Repair Charm to fix the china bowl and leaving the Murtlap tentacles on the carpet for the house-elves to hopefully clean up as he himself wasn't bothered, he followed Ron up to their dormitory.

He glanced at Elric's four-poster bed - the curtains were covering him, but the shadows had shown him still awake and sitting up, lights flickering on his side of the bed. Books with titles Harry couldn't read because of the dark laid either open or closed, sometimes folded, scattered across the bed, even peeking out of the curtains. Harry couldn't help but tug a smile at his lips as he visualised a scenario or Hermione seeing this, and her scandalised face.

Harry said goodnight to Ron, and crawled into his own bed, thinking about the Defence group they had been talking about just about ten minutes ago, slowly drifting off to sleep. Nightmares tormented him, and he tossed and turned in his slumber, knowing even unconsciously that his scar was prickling more than ever like _hell..._

 _The room was dark, dimly lit only by candles and the flickering lights of the Lumos charm from the tips of wands. He slowly crept through the room, almost tip-toeing, hoping not to make a sound. At least, there was_ someone _out there, he was sure of that. Who had come to see him now?_

 _He stroked Nagini. He partially hoped that it would be Avery come to see him. How he had failed him, how_ angry _he had been, and he pondered over Avery's punishment, still stroking his beloved snake with one bony white finger. He looked up when he had heard a loud step on the marble floor, and then a small slump - whoever had come to visit him had bowed on one knee - which was expected of his loyal followers._

 _"My Lord," he said simply. "You summon me, lowly and powerless, to do a favour?"_

 _"Yes," he whispered. "I hope you are able to carry it out, Mulciber. I hope I have not regretted bringing you here."_

 _"You will not regret, My Lord," Mulciber said. "My Lord must know I will carry out any favour he asks of, to show my allegiance."_

 _"Well..._ Accio." _with his wand, he reached for a file stored in a small folder. It contained the two targets needed for this mission. He pointed at the tall one, pointing his wand at the picture with the Lumos charm so that Mulciber could see the face clearer. "They are both in Hogwarts, are they not?"_

 _"I am sure, My Lord," Mulciber replied. "Fudge was quick to agree to Macnair's suggestion of 'bringing our countries into a better relationship' by sending two delegates from Amestris. The plan is working smoothly. It was good of you to have followers planted in the Ministry. They all helped bring this into action."_

 _"Good, indeed," he almost smirked in reply, then pointed at the tall, black-haired one again. "I want you to look for him."  
_

 _"In Hogwarts, My Lord?"_

 _"Yes, and I want you to recruit him. He will be useful in our plan. Have the others received enough information on him?"_

 _"More than enough, Mr Lord!" Mulciber spoke with excitement, as he took a file out of his bag, with a photo of the same black-haired target clipped onto the front. "We have a few personal details, but not enough. However, we have some military records given to Fudge from Amestris." He looked at the file. Yes, they had gained more than enough information. Perfect._

 _"Hero of Ishval, eh?" He read off the file. "Known for saving his troops during the bloody war, but actually because he killed many with his Flame Alchemy, one of the many alchemists involved in the genocide. Hmmm."_

 _"What do you think, My Lord?" Mulciber said, then he reached for another file. "I have another file on the little one." The Death Eater clicked his tongue. "We had to check our sources_ twice... _we were not sure of his capability and his age. Their military must be naive to let a boy enlist."_

 _"No, I do not think so," he replied, Nagini hissing in agreement. "He must be very powerful and skilled in alchemy. No wonder the military brought those two to Britain." He skimmed through the file. He would thoroughly analyse both the files later. "Mulciber," he called, and Mulciber looked up. "Yes, My Lord?"_

 _"My orders are to find them in Hogwarts - track them down, starting with this one." He pointed his wand at the tall, dark-haired one. "Tell him to kill Albus Dumbledore. Offer your help and recruit him. And then turn your focus to the boy." As Mulciber nodded and stood, saying, "Yes, My Lord", he waved for him to stay. "We must discuss this properly and plan this. I do not want failure, Mulciber."_

 _"No, My Lord..." he smiled at the quivering in Mulciber's voice. Yes, be afraid._

 _"I do not want you to fail like Avery failed me," he said softly. "Come, Mulciber, let us talk."_


	11. Chapter 11

_OVER 200 FOLLOWERS. THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT._

* * *

Divination had been an... interesting experience, to say the least.

Despite the fact Divination was a class Ed and the military had opted not to take during the duration of the mission in the school, he had been stopped by the subject's teacher on the way to the library. His first impression of the teacher had been one of a crazy, homeless lady. She was a lady with a very skinny physique, draped in a very long and gauzy but a fairly colourful shawl, wearing a cloak covered in shiny sequins Ed had only seen on decorations and other pieces of apparel. Bangles and jewels decorated her arms, beads in her frizzy brown hair. Ed locked his golden eyes with hers; her black glasses had magnified her eyes to ten times the size that it almost scared him.

"Hello there," she spoke with a dreamy voice, unlike and like the voice of Luna Lovegood from the beginning of the year. It was ethereal, soft and misty, like a breath into the wind, and that kind of voice would've persuaded Ed to tuck himself into bed if she had simply said in that same voice the word 'sleep.' "I see you are the new student for this year? For politics and whatnot?"

"Er - yes," he said simply, and to his surprise and displeasure, she instantly grabbed his arms and shook her head, saying, "I do not spend too much time with politics. The Ministry and Dumbledore affairs are a little too much for me and my Inner Eye." She let go of Ed's arms, then looked behind his shoulder. "I must be attending my Divination classes. You are a student doing this class, or not?"

Ed shook his head. "No.", and the teacher took his arm again and said, "But you must see what my classes consist of! You will find it very _interesting,_ Mr..."

"Edward Elric."

"... Mr Edward Elric! Please, join my class!"

Out of courtesy, he did. He followed her on a long trek across Hogwarts Castle, and she led him to the North Tower - somewhere that Ed had only entered for Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons, but they kept on walking, and they began a tedious hike up several staircases. He silently thanked his Teacher for the stamina he had received from six months of nonstop hard training, as the staircases Ed climbed up seemed to never end. The teacher had not said a word to him, instead muttering to herself in rushed, inaudible tones. Once they had reached the top, there was nothing and no-one up there, but a painting of a bare stretch of lush green grass hanging on the wall.

So _this_ was Divination?

 _No wonder it's not popular,_ Ed thought jokingly.

"No, wait, Mr Edward," the teacher muttered, gesturing at the painting for Ed to look. He peered over the portrait, and noticed a short, squat knight make his way onto the green scene, followed by a fat pony who ambled onto the meadow, biting off some grass on the way. His metal armour was caked in dirt and soil, sword held lopsided in one hand, then he turned at Ed's direction and began to run... until he tripped and slid on the field.

"Who dares to trespass on the lands of the gallant Sir Cadogan?"

"Uh..." the teacher had simply waved him away, saying to the knight, "Nothing, Cadogan... carry on... I am just heading to my Divination class..."

 _Divination._ That was the class Harry and Ron attended, wasn't it? It was apparently something to do with seeing the future. It seemed like some bullshit to Ed. _Why would anyone want the power to see the future, and then change it into something worse by accident?_ he thought, as the knight - Cadogan - yelled some mighty words and charged in the direction of his pony, but then collided with the horse and fell face down into the soil.

Ed followed the teacher as they left him, climbing even more steps and stairs, wondering whether it was going to end. He felt lucky he had chosen not to take this class. Despite the fact he would have been able to walk up without becoming extremely exhausted, it was not something he would have liked to do a few days each week on a regular basis.

Once he heard voices and familiar chatter, it was now clear to the Fullmetal Alchemist that he and the teacher had finished their journey and reached their destination of the Divination classroom. A circular trapdoor with a brass plaque with the Divination teacher's name - Trelawney - opened, and a silvery ladder appeared instantly. Trelawney stepped aside, and said, "You go first, Mr Edward."

"Thank you." He stepped forward and climbed up, and he was now sure that everyone in the class was staring at him. He scanned the classroom; he saw his dorm-mates Finnegan and Thomas, Neville Longbottom, a few other girls from his Gryffindor class, and Harry and Ron, who seemed to be showing the most confusion and surprise. Ed quickly shuffled towards the two, and took his seat as Trelawney greeted the class and apologised for her lateness, and that she had went downstairs to the Castle for the first time in quite a long time.

"After all," she continued, "the Inner Eye tends to get clouded with the hustle and bustle of the mundane."

Two girls - Parvati and Lavender - began to giggle. _There's nothing funny, though,_ Ed said, trying in vain not to look unimpressed, staring at them.

He knew that Divination was messed up when she asked them to open up their 'dream diaries' and share them with the class. Ed saw Harry roll his eyes, and quickly take a book and quill out of his bag, quickly scribbling down something onto the page, muttering rapidly and inaudibly. In front of them was a crystal ball, and Trelawney quickly explained that as they read their dreams out loud, a significant symbol would appear in the ball and they would have to interpret it. Ed shook his head. There was no point looking in at dreams. And what if someone had forgotten their dreams? And what if they had dreamed the most bizarre and embarrassing ones, ones that explored one's darkest and deepest secrets?

To Ed, dreams were more unreliable than divine intervention (though he was sure that Al would highly disagree on the 'divine intervention' part). But whatever. Harry and Ron seemed to struggle as they peered into the dream diary – it had been very obvious that they were attempting to lie about their dreams, especially since their 'dream diaries' had nothing in them.

"So… yesterday I – well – you, me and Hermione were on a Quidditch field," Harry lied, wiping sweat from his forehead. "And Hermione – well, she got on a broom and kicked the Quaffle into the goal."

 _Quaffle._ What a strange term. That was the red ball used in their sport 'quidditch', wasn't it?

"Then?"

"I don't remember the rest of the dream," Harry snapped. "You try. It's hard trying to make up a dream on the spot."

Ron tapped his chin in deep thought. "Well _I…_ I went out to Hogsmeade in my dream. Uh, um… I went to Honeydukes, like the candy shop there, so…" he waved his hands around in futile gestures. "Then… then I bought the – the cockroach clusterand the… blood-flavoured lollipops…"

 _No wonder wizards are fucked up,_ Ed thought. _They have candy with cockroaches and lollipops that taste like blood._

"I can't see anything in the crystal ball," Harry said. "But… your dream probably means you'll become a candy shop owner? Selling candy no-one will buy?"

Ron laughed. "Mate, who'd be seeing _me_ in a shop? At a counter? Taking care of stuff?"

They both erupted in laughter, until Trelawney came over to them, tut-tutting as she arrived. "Cockroach cluster, you say?" she asked, glaring straight at Ron.

"Y-Yes," he said, and Ed saw his ears slowly becoming a bright shade of red. "And blood-flavoured lollipops. At Honeydukes. You – you know, the shop at Hogsmeade."

"I see." She peered into the crystal ball, sighing and muttering repeatedly as she did so, then her eyes widened in surprise, clapping a hand to her mouth. "Mr Weasley, what a short life you have lived!"

The students looked at her. Parvati and Lavender gasped louder than Trelawney, hugging each other in fear. "What's – what's happened?" Ron asked nervously.

"What, my dear?" she said, then sighed. "Oh, Mr Weasley. The omens in your dream point to only one thing – your death by the end of the school year?"

A collective gasp ran across the room, bar Ed and Harry. Ed rolled his eyes. Trelawney turned to Harry, who recounted his 'dream' of Hermione playing Quidditch. The Divination teacher looked at him with a confused look then turned to Ed.

"Now, Mr Edward, what dream did you have last night?"

Normally, Ed forgot his dreams. He was sure of that. He had been too preoccupied with reality to even think a thought or ponder about his dreams. With a slight exception. Dreams about his mother and his brother, and Nina too, when they entered and exited his dreams like a fluid. But there was no way in hell he was telling her about _that._

"I do not know," Ed replied. "I do not remember."

"Ah, I see," she whispered in reply, now turning her gaze and attention towards the crystal ball. To Ed, it was nothing but a ball with clouds of smoke inside, but Trelawney must have seen something, the alchemist mused, when she saw something and her eyes widened in curiosity and wonder.

"You are from a land stained with blood, my dear," she said. "With your past full of suffering and pain as well."

"I-" Ed began to stammer, but halted as soon as everyone turned to stare at him. _Jeez,_ he thought bitterly. _Just because I am the new 'foreign exchange student', it doesn't give you any right to just stare at me and be curious about what I'm doing –_

"Your future will be filled with obstacles and tough turns," she whispered softly. "You will make both new friends and foes as you overcome these obstacles. Do not forsake the future because of the burden of your past."

Then she shuffled away, muttering to herself, making her way towards other students. Biting his lip, Ed frowned. Harry and Ron still stared at him, mouths open wide, and some other students, instead of resuming their work, began whispering among each other, and while Ed couldn't decipher what they had talked about, he was sure the chatter was about him.

When Divination had ended, and Trelawney announced their homework for the class ('Complete your dream diaries for the next few days and answer the questions from the passage of _The Dream Oracle_ that we have just read'), Ed began to leave and followed the other Gryffindor students to the next class.

However, as he passed Harry and Ron, not bothering to stop or walk with them, he heard the words come out of Harry's mouth: " – his past can't be _that_ dark, can it?"

"It's Trelawney," Ron replied. "It's probably bullshit."

He didn't stop to eavesdrop even more. Yes, Divination truly _was_ an interesting experience.

Too bad for Trelawney that he wouldn't attend any lessons held in the future.

* * *

He was quite surprised at what he had just received from Owlbus just as Ed was planning to send his new letters and reports and he had went up to the Owlery. The owl was feeding himself with birdseed and God knows what else, but at seeing Ed he flew up to the alchemist, frantically flapping his wings, holding out his leg, and Ed ducked swiftly in order to avoid a gouged out eye. Grumbling, he took the letter out with some harsh force, in the hope to teach the damn bird a lesson, but he only retaliated with a sharp peck on his flesh forefinger.

Blood began to seep out slowly, with little resistance and viscosity. Soon enough, the whole top of his finger was beginning to become red with the blood. _Shit, you damn bird._ Muttering swear words, he sucked a little on the finger, in the hope it would dry out.

"Damn you too," Ed grunted at the owl a few minutes later as he flipped open the envelope's flap and peered inside. The letter was very brief, but it was written very neatly, but the letter was so cursive Ed had to read it several times to understand it:

 _Ed,_

 _We've decided for our first meeting for the Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons will take place on the first week of October – it's a Hogsmeade weekend, that means you'll be allowed to visit the village with us._

 _Meet us outside Zonko's Joke Shop and we'll all go together._

 _Hermione_

He tracked back in time through his mind, and remembered that Mustang had mentioned this 'Hogsmeade' before. So it was a village, with a joke shop now that it was mentioned in the letter.

The idea of lessons to train yourself for the outside world outside of class seemed like a good idea. But to Ed, there was no point of him attending because of his inability to perform magic. But there was also another reason to go, wasn't there? To take care of Harry – his _body-guarding_ mission. Ed shook his head. _I haven't been really acting like some bodyguard, haven't I?_ He was sure that avoiding the client, and spending the time of 'body-guarding' reading books in the library was not part of the plan. _I guess it's time to act like some bodyguard before Mustang comes after my tail…_

Sighing, he tied his mail to Amestris on Owlbus' leg, and left the Owlery swiftly, not even waiting to see the owl take off into the sky, its destination far away.

* * *

The Hogsmeade weekend arrived with little event, and Harry saw that even though outside was bright and sunny, a strong breeze had also decided to visit. They queued in front of Filch, and Harry had to wonder whether the line was becoming ever-so-slow on purpose, thanks to the caretaker himself.

He shivered as Filch took a large sniff from him, and Harry remembered his strange encounter with Filch in the Owlery about Dungbombs. He briefly recounted the story to Ron and Hermione, who seemed very confused. But to Harry, he was sure the event mattered very little to him.

When they were at Hogsmeade, they were quickly met by Elric, who shuffled over and joined them in their journey through the village. He held two small bags from Honeydukes, and Harry was sure it contained plenty of sweets and candies from the humble shop.

The alchemist smirked at them, and fished inside one of his bags until he pulled out a smaller packet of a peanut-looking brown sweets. Harry read the label, reading _Cockroach Cluster – made of real cockroaches!_

"Uh, Elric," he said, "you _do_ know the Cockroach Cluster is made of _actual_ cockroaches?"

"I also have blood lollipops. Got them from corner of shop. I have more too," he smirked even more, and Ron grimaced. "You're going to _eat_ them?"

Elric laughed and shook his head. "No, no, I am sure they will taste very bad. But," he smirked again, with a glint of mischief in his eyes, "I will trick Mustang with this." He muttered something in Amestrian, then said, "this will be fun. Fun to see his reaction."

The rest of the walk was in silence. Harry was surprised to see that Hermione had not chosen The Three Broomsticks as a place for the meeting, where she quickly explained there was too much people.

"It's a little, well… _dodgy_ place," Hermione explained. "Luckily, we're allowed to visit it, it's just that Professor Flitwick also gave me a reminder to bring our own cups."

"There're other pubs in Hogsmeade?" Ron asked, eyes widened. "I thought The Three Broomsticks was just the one."

"Just this one, I think," Hermione nodded. "It's called the Hog's Head. It's very far from the bustle of the village, which is why I chose it. But there's a reason why it's very unpopular."

Whatever reason it was, Harry hoped that it was nothing too life-threatening.

But as the four of them entered the pub, Harry instantly understood why. Cobwebs that seemed decades old hung from the corners of the ceilings; the floor speckled with dust and sprinkled with the occasional beetle or cockroach. Ron, slowly backing away, bumped into Harry, and he quickly figured out there was a daddy long-legs on the floor, which Elric approached then stepped on. A solitary empty tankard stood alone on one table – dust and a bug had made its way into the very few drops of liquid left. Harry grimaced in disgust – _no wonder no-one comes here,_ he thought, seeing the very few strange-looking visitors – was one of them a hag?

"Let's leave now," Ron said, shaking his head. "The Three Broomsticks would be a better place. It seems empty. _Haunted,_ even."

"It's not _haunted,_ Ronald," Hermione sighed, shaking her head. "There are people here. And it's common courtesy to get some drinks. Anyone?"

No-one moved.

"I figured."

Elric looked around. "Would it be good… be good to hold meeting _here?_ Looks very… not good, I do not know word in English. There are also very few people here. If Three Broomsticks is as crowded as you say… that would be harder to overhear."

 _That actually makes sense,_ Harry thought, but then saw Hermione reply, "But someone could take advantage of that factor and use it against us, instead of being in our favour. I've heard of charms-"

"That very small chance," Elric said indignantly. "Three Broomsticks is full of people who just want drink. They just think we are just four students. They will not overhear-"

"Let's just sit down, shall we?" Hermione abruptly ended the argument and she led the three boys to a table, and Harry made a new note about his friend: that Hermione almost _never_ wanted to be proven wrong, especially when she had arranged a meeting for them.

She had walked over to the counter and (reluctantly) ordered four Butterbeers, but Harry was sure not to touch it; the mug was very dirty, the liquid had little things floating around in it and Harry wondered if it had just been cleaned out of the previous liquid then just placed back in the cupboard. He looked back at the bartender – he looked like a typical shady man in stories, working in a fishy place in the darkest parts of the area.

"So, who is supposed to be joining with us?" Harry asked.

"Not a lot of people," Hermione promised, checking her watch. "I asked them to be here by now… oh, wait, they _are_ here."

Another thing that Harry was sure about was that his and Hermione's definitions of 'not a lot of people' differed very drastically. Neville, Dean and Lavender, followed by the Patil twins, as well as (suddenly, without his knowledge, his heart flipped and dove down to his stomach then back up again) Cho and one of her friends, Luna Lovegood, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson of the Quidditch team, the Creevey brothers, Dennis and Colin, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbott followed by another Hufflepuff girl, Ravenclaw boys Michael Corner, Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot, Ginny, and another Hufflepuff Harry recognised from the yellow house's Quidditch team, and last in were Fred, George and Lee, carrying paper bags which Harry was sure were from Zonko's.

He looked at Hermione desperately. He counted quickly, and realised that, not counting his group right now, there were _twenty-two_ people who had come to seek his teaching. He cursed. Yes, 'not a lot of people' was something (the only thing, maybe) that Hermione Granger did not know the definition of.

Hermione seemed oblivious to Harry's displeasure, and asked everyone to take a seat, and twenty-six Butterbeers were handed out, despite that Harry, Hermione, Ron and Elric already had some of their own. Ron was calling out, handing out Butterbeers, Hermione was welcoming everyone and talking rapidly. Meanwhile Elric, who had widened his eyes at the number of people who had entered the Hog's Head, had resumed his usual habit of keeping to himself, in his own thoughts.

While everyone brought out their gold to pay for the drinks, Harry went to Hermione and whispered furiously, "What have you been telling people? Free Defence lessons taught by the great Harry Potter?"

"They just want to learn and know what you have to say, Harry," Hermione said happily. "And the idea was quite popular, it was quite the contrary of what I expected." Harry glared at her, and she began to reassure him, saying, "Don't worry, I've got this covered."

"Twenty-five people," he breathed slowly. "I'm not teaching twenty-five people."

Hermione began the meeting, talking about the Defence lessons, and Harry's heart lightened as she spoke of Voldemort and his return, especially since she had ignored the flinches and the gasps around the room at the name.

One of the things he hadn't enjoyed was the Hufflepuff boy, Zacharias Smith, who seemed to be very stubborn and refusing to believe in Voldemort's returning, despite Harry shooting back at him.

The conversation had quickly turned to Harry's feats and achievements throughout his years at Hogwarts, and while it wasn't him to feel _very_ proud of his achievements, he felt pleased that he had done them. It had all gone quickly and smoothly, until Hermione said, "It won't be just Defensive magic that will be taught."

Murmurs throughout the group, then Hermione cleared her throat and said, turning to Elric, "Edward, if he'd like to, would be able to teach us some alchemy."

Elric looked up instantly, gaping at her, and there was chatter throughout the group again, and Zacharias angrily put up his hand.

"Alchemy? Get him to teach us some _muggle_ power?" he roared. "What good will that do for us? It's not like we're going to do alchemy for our _OWLS!_ The only reason Umbridge gave us that stupid book is because you guys are here!"

"Alchemy is good," Elric glared at him in annoyance. "It has saved me from dying many times. I have had to fight plenty of enemies. I have fought them with alchemy."

Harry stood. "Fighting Voldemort with a power he doesn't know would give us an advantage-"

"But what if You-Know-Who isn't _back?"_ Zacharias said. "I'm not spending my time learning something I don't need to. I'm leaving." Zacharias turned towards the door, but Elric was too fast for him. _Too. Fast._ He jumped from his chair and leapt in front of Zacharias, glaring at him. "Fight me."

"Wha-?"

"If you think alchemy is that inferior, fight me here. Now."

"We can't fight here," Zacharias growled. "We're in a pub. We're in a public place. You'll get suspended."

"Don't do it, Edward," Hermione warned. Elric looked up at her, and then noticed the barman, who was looking at him with plain irritation, and saying in a low voice, "If you're going to fight, do it outside at least. I don't want any spilled blood in my pub. Get out."

Elric sighed, but looked up and glared into Zacharias' eyes. "You will come to the first lesson and you will fight me."

Zacharias pondered for a few moments, then said, "Fine. But I'll leave if you're teaching alchemy. I don't think it's worth my time."

Elric frowned, looking murderous, but then stomped back to his seat, pounding his fist on the table with such force. Harry, wishing to change the subject, looked to Hermione, who nodded and brought out a parchment and quill from her bag, and asked everyone to sign, as well as warn them not to tell Umbridge or anyone else about their new club. Some were eager, others were nervous or uneasy, but in the end, everyone's signature was on.

Then everyone stood and left. Hermione seemed happy at the success of the prospect of the first meeting, while Ron grumbled on and on about Zacharias, and Harry couldn't help but agree. Elric, on the other hand, had retreated to his own thoughts once again, but Harry was sure, by the alchemist's expression that he was still angry at Zacharias' words.

"Well, I can't help it," Hermione shrugged. "He overhead me while I was talking at the Hufflepuff table to Ernie and Hannah, and he seemed very interested in coming. I mean, it's better than Michael and his friends. The only reason he came with Ginny is because they've been going out-"

"WHAT?!" Ron suddenly stood, his mug of Butterbeer making a few clatters before it hit the floor with a _thud,_ bellowing so loud the whole pub turned to look at him. The subject mattered little to Harry, however, as he thought about the prospect of him and Cho.

* * *

 **BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS**

 **All students organisations, societies, teams, groups and clubs are henceforth disbanded.**

 **An organisation, society, team, group or club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.**

 **Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).**

 **No student organisation, society, team, group or club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.**

 **Any student to have formed, or belong to, an organisation, society, team, group or club, that has not been in the knowledge or approval of the High Inquisitor will be expelled.**

 **The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.**

 **Signed,**

 _Dolores Jane Umbridge,  
_ **High Inquisitor**

"This can't be a coincidence," Harry growled. "It _isn't._ Someone must've told her. That's the only explanation."

Elric had seen them walk downstairs from the dormitory, and saw Ron nod his head, suggesting that it could be the work of Zacharias Smith (the bastard himself) or Michael Corner (but that was probably due to Ron's newfound hatred of him ever since finding out about his and Ginny's relationship.

But yes, there was a traitor. However, he had expected a traitor to inform Umbridge later in their meetings, during its peak, maybe. Who, however? Zacharias Smith was the first suspect he could think of. _That idiot will pay for trying to downgrade alchemy,_ he thought.

Whoever had told them off… disgust filled his veins. He shivered. Hopefully there would be some fair payback for them.

Betraying the team's trust so early in its career? _Man, who would be cowardly to do that?_ Ed thought.

He sighed and headed downstairs.

* * *

Roy's stomach growled grumpily at him, and he was sure to take notes on trying to eat more after spending hours upon hours marking essays Umbridge had given the whole school.

He marked the last of the essays, cursing, and stood and walked out of his office. A little walk would be nice, along with fresh air. Ever since he had began as a teacher in Hogwarts, he hadn't been up to anything exciting. As he walked, he noticed a small sign stuck on the wall, with a black font and an official-looking seal. _BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS…_

His eyes scanned the whole notice, and obviously it had been put up by Umbridge. It had confused him in the pit of his stomach why she would be willing to ban all groups, even the smaller organisations such as games clubs. _Something must've happened to make her do this…_

It didn't seem like it, but Roy was sure this was the beginning of Umbridge's abuse of power.

He knew a lot about abuse of power – a reasonable number of high-ranking officials had been guilty of it – he recalled Lieutenant Yoki's abuse of power with the residents of the Youswell Coal Mine, and how Fullmetal and his brother had stopped Yoki's money-stealing life and had freed Youswell.

He made a note to put this in his report to the Amestrian State Military.

As he walked back, he looked around. _I'm sure there was a slice of air here somewhere…_ Glancing around, Roy slowly reached into his pocket to bring out his gloves. _Yes, there's someone here…_

There had been no-one in the corridor but him, and Roy sighed and shook his head, and removed the gloves. But as he did, Roy noticed it. For one second.

A pair of eyes and the ever-so-silent sound of footsteps heading the other direction. He squinted and concentrated in the hope to notice it again, but there was silence.

He was sure now.

Someone was watching him.

But who?

After walking around the hallways in circles, listening and gazing around cautiously, he gave up and headed back to his office. But there was something Roy was sure of – he wanted to find out who had been watching him and _quick._

* * *

Ed had given up on copying down notes for History of Magic; instead resorting to writing his response to Al's letter behind the History of Magic textbook. He thought this was a very productive alternative, better than just drifting off to sleep like the majority of his classmates. It was very surprising that Binns was solely focused on droning on about tedious topics, instead of checking whether his students were keeping up with him, or even better, whether they were paying attention.

He partially wished he had had a teacher like Binns back when he used to go to school, because his teachers, especially his mathematics teacher, had always caught Ed and Al studying alchemy, reading Hohenheim's books instead of copying down whatever she was teaching.

The only interesting thing that had happened in the class was when Harry's owl, Hedwig, was making a loud tapping sound against the glass of the window. _It's a miracle the damn teacher hasn't heard that yet,_ Ed thought, and shook his head. Binns was a ghost. And that fact made him uncomfortable.

Then Harry had taken his owl, and for some reason, raised his hand and said he was not well, being excused by Binns and heading out of the classroom.

When the class had headed out, Hermione and Ron caught up with him. "Hedwig's been hurt," Ron whispered, when they were finally out of earshot from the rest of the class, and anyone else in particular.

"The owl?" Ed widened his eyebrows. "So… what that got to do with me?"

Ron widened his eyes and opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione stopped him and replied, "Harry sent a letter to Siri – Snuffles. When Hedwig came back, her wing was hurt. Something's wrong with it. I think…" her face darkened. "I think someone was trying to intercept Sirius' letter. Someone's on to us!"

Ed looked at them with surprise. Lowering his voice, he whispered, "No-one… Who would do that?" His thoughts whirled around in a spinning circle, and the first suspect his mind could think of was Umbridge. If Sirius was thought to be a mass murderer and Harry Potter a hated figure in magic land… a connection between the two would prove to be detrimental to Potter's already unstable reputation.

Twenty minutes passed, and the wind flapped against Ed's bangs, moving side to side. Harry joined them, not with Hedwig anymore, but in his hand a small piece of parchment. He seemed surprised to see Ed there, but acknowledged him with a nod, and Ed nodded in return. With anticipation, Ed watched the three wizards open the parchment, and it read a short sentence: _Today, same time, same place._

"What does that mean?" Ed wrinkled his nose. "Same time, same place?"

"He probably means the common room again," Harry replied.

"What?"

"Well… I kind of talk to-" he lowered his voice before continuing "-Snuffles in the fire in the common room." Ed sent him a confused look, and Harry shook his head in a way to tell him to not worry about it. "It doesn't matter. It's a bit confusing, really."

Ed nodded. "Your owl is okay?"

"She's fine," Harry said. "I took her to Grubbly-Plank." Then he turned to Ron and Hermione. "Listen, you two, I saw McGonagall…"

"Really?" Hermione asked. "What did she say?"

"In her exact words, 'bear in mind that channels of communication in and out of Hogwarts may be being watched.'"

That increased the theory of the letter being intercepted. By Umbridge, Ed suspected.

"Harry, you've got to be careful!" Hermione gripped his shoulder in alarm. "It's the Ministry! They could find Snuffles!"

"Mate, we've been talking a bit, and we've agreed that your letter's been intercepted and read," Ron said worriedly.

"But no-one should know what I'm talking about, Ron, I was reading it over and over again and I was sure an outsider would be able to understand what I meant when I wrote it-"

The discussion went on and on, and Hermione looked at Ed. "What do you think?"

Ed coughed. "I do not know too much, except that you are to be more careful in writing anything to be sent outside of the Castle. Could be seen by other people."

"You should know a little about this. I mean, you were sent here by the Ministry, aren't you?" Ron asked.

"Not too much, no. But I have a suspicion." Ed quickly summarised his theory on how Umbridge could be responsible for the interception of Harry's letter, and Harry bit his lip in response.

"I swear," he growled, "I _swear_ if that fucking _hag's_ been looking through my letters… she'll pay."

That would mean, if Umbridge _was_ looking through mail, Ed decided to be more careful. _Who knows whether she's just targeting Potter or not._ Would he have to resort to code? Or would the Amestrian language be enough?

 _I'll also have to warn Mustang, damn it,_ he thought.

There was a long silence, until Hermione suggested the four of them head towards Potions together, earning angry noises from Harry and Ron, and as they reached Snape's classroom door, Ed saw that blond-haired, arrogant green-tied Malfoy, boasting about something that sounded like their 'quidditch' team had been approved straightway by Umbridge.

 _Why does this quidditch thing matter too damn much, anyways?_ Ed thought bitterly. _And I think Umbridge is biased towards the Slytherins, too. Shit._

Suddenly, Ed was snapped out of his thoughts with Neville Longbottom brushing past him swiftly, angrily lifting his arm for a punch, then being abruptly stopped by Harry, despite his pleas to let him go. He spluttered out words that made no sense; he also made note to look up the definition of the word 'Mungo's.'

The dungeon door opened, and Snape appeared. "Potter, Weasley, Longbottom? Why are you three fighting in my class? Ten points from Gryffindor. If you don't release Longbottom now, Potter, I will issue you detention."

Upon entering the dungeons, Ed realised something was standing out with the bleakness and the gloom of the dungeon classroom. Umbridge, wearing a hot pink cardigan and attire, stood with a sly smirk on her face, tapping her quill repeatedly against her clipboard. Umbridge took a quick glance at him, and Ed averted his gaze to the table in front of him. Looking at her made him feel uneasy.

Potions was an 'ok' subject for Ed in particular; to his pleasure it had not required any form of magic, despite his potions being 'abysmal' in Snape's words, and his papers being enough to get E or A grades, to make up for it.

Umbridge began to inspect the class, and it was almost as if Ed could feel her breathing down on him, like she had during his detention. It made him shiver for no reason. He looked up, and noticed Umbridge was watching him, writing down whatever on her clipboard, and Ed decided to ignore her and continue with his potion.

At the end of the lesson, Ed watched as Harry received zero marks for his potion and was given extra homework. The bell rung, and the whole class cleared out. But as Ed packed his bag and headed for the library, he heard a voice, "Wait."

Ed turned, and saw Malfoy, wearing a smug smirk, and his cronies Malfoy and Crabbe, looking fierce and burly behind him. Being a bodyguard, Ed had studied him and his antagonising over Harry, but he had proved to be no actual threat – just one of those fucking stereotypical bullies you would only find in stories. "Hey, Elric."

"Bye." Ed began to walk, but Malfoy put a hand on his shoulder. "I need to ask you a favour."

"Yeah…"

"You know the book Umbridge gave us? On alchemy." Biting his lip, Ed nodded angrily. How could he forget that insult to alchemy? "Well, I find it to be… very lacking."

"Lacking?" Ed couldn't help but agree, but at the same time think that _Magical Theory on the Art of Alchemy_ was 'lacking' was the understatement of the year.

"Lacking yes," Malfoy nodded. "It doesn't really tell me how to do alchemy, does it? Talks on and on about how it contradicts whatever and how magic is superior to it."

"All your texts on alchemy are lacking," Ed said simply. "I have read them all. They tell lies, and no information is useful for even basics."

"That's why I wanted to ask you a favour."

A suspicion on what this _favour_ was began to linger in his head. He had been very sure that Malfoy would come back with his request after being rejected once. _He doesn't know when to give up, doesn't he?_

"Teach me alchemy." The three words that had just come out of Malfoy's mouth hit Ed in the chest, confirming his thoughts, despite the fact those were the words Ed had been suspecting. "You're one of the most capable alchemists in your country, right? You're part of the military that hires the best alchemists in exchange for top research on the subject in exchange for loyalty."

"How-" Ed began to ask, but Malfoy waved this away, and said, "Just a few words I heard from my father. He's got a lot of friends high up in the Ministry. So you could?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I do not want to. Now goodbye." Ed turned and left, and Malfoy ran after him. "You know, it's sad how you have to stay in the house of Mudbloods and morons," he sneered. "In Slytherin, there are plenty of people who would enjoy in-depth conversations on alchemy. It's a topic that's been in our heads since you came."

"But why would you want to learn it?" Ed asked. "You have magic. Magic is not enough for wizards?"

"Not enough, no," Malfoy shook his head. "In certain aspects, alchemy is superior over magic, despite its limitations. Besides, our texts are very lacking. You said it yourself, they don't even have the correct information."

Slytherin. House of the snake. Ed could understand how this guy made it into the green house. The way he manipulated words like that and twisted it to his own advantage, being as slithery as the serpent… no wonder.

Ed tapped his chin thoughtfully. He knew that until he said yes, that Malfoy wouldn't stop bothering the hell out of him to teach alchemy. But he didn't want any alchemy students, especially one who he had been told was the son of a follower of Voldemort. Then an idea struck him. Something from his childhood. _Yeah, he'd never figure that out…_ His lips played into a mischievous smile.

"Fine, I will teach you." Ed turned and looked at Malfoy straight in the eye. He began to smirk, but it quickly faded when Ed pointed at him and said, "But I have one condition."

"What condition?" Malfoy said curiously. "If it's money, or homework help, or-"

"You have to run twenty laps around the outline of the Quidditch field – or the school grounds – every morning, and you will have to answer my riddle."

"Run?! Why?!" Malfoy protested, and Ed chuckled in reply. "You wizards should learn not to just train spirit for something, but also body. Also, running is good for stamina. You will not survive in battle if you just stood still."

"But I can't run twenty. I _can't."_

Ed coughed. "Okay, I will half it. Ten laps. And you still have to solve my riddle."

"Fine. What's the riddle?"

"All is one, one is all." Memories of him and his brother being under Teacher's tutelage filled him with nostalgia, and it made him smile. Then the times when Teacher yelled them to 'shut up' and beat them several times during duels made him sigh. _I guess those were the good old days…_

"What?!" Malfoy protested again. "I can't solve that! How can you figure that out by _running?"_

"My alchemy teacher left me on an island full of wild beasts for a month trying to solve this riddle. I solved it. You are doing something easier, so you will be able to solve it."

"I can't-"

"That is my offer," Ed said finally. "If you want to learn alchemy, run ten laps and solve all is one, one is all. I will give you three guesses to the answer. If you guess all three wrong, I will not teach you alchemy. Deal?"

Malfoy bit his lip, frustrated; he glanced at Crabbe and Goyle and then back at Ed, and he nodded.

"I think that is all I have to say," Ed said. "But if you tell anyone about this, how I am willing to teach you, I will cancel lessons and I will not teach you, even if you know answer to riddle."

Malfoy nodded, and Ed, satisfied, left.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading Chapter 11._

 _And no, there won't be any pairings I make in this story. Cho and Harry will not end up together. It'll end up the same way it did in OotP. As for Ed, he's too preoccupied with missions and work and trusting these "fucked up wizards" to be involved in romance._


	12. Chapter 12

Roy walked through the pitch-black halls of Hogwarts, lightened only by the dim flickers of magical torches. He sighed. Looking around, making sure no-one was in sight, he slowly took out his Flame Alchemy gloves. With a quick rub of the fingers and a _snap,_ the torches glowed brighter, the tongues of flames dancing excitedly around. It made him feel satisfied, using his gloves again. But it also reminded him of how long he'd have to wait for the damn mission to be over, so that he would be able to wear and use them freely back home.

He yawned. Roy wanted to sleep. It irritated him how he had to be out patrolling the corridors, sniffing out any late-night wanderers. Roy wondered why _anyone_ would be out at this time of hour, anyway. The moving portraits and statues and _ghosts_ were enough to send a few shivers up Roy's spine. He also wondered, if anyone was that mad to stay up wandering late, if they were stupid enough to let themselves get caught. Magical stealth that Roy didn't understand would be the key to secretly prowl around.

 _Oh, no. I still have to mark the rest of the essays._ He remembered the several rolls of parchment he had to mark, regarding the stupid books Umbridge had set the students. He cursed as he remembered that bullshit book, _Magical Theory on the Art of Alchemy._ It would've been best if no-one had set the damn book at all.

He understood Fullmetal when he had said that wizards were "fucked up."

He turned suddenly, his soldier instincts from the Ishval War sensing something wrong. Nothing. He shook his head as he resumed walking, his speed a little faster than usual, but stopped once again as he heard a voice. It made Roy sure someone was out there in the darkness.

" _Can you see me, Roy Mustang? Roy Mustang?"_

 _How does he know my name?_ Roy thought, slipping on his Flame Alchemy gloves once again. He turned, and saw a cloaked figure striding quickly towards him. He rubbed the cloth of his gloves again, and a miniature fireball went hurtling towards him. The cloaked figure, however, waved his wand, yelled, "AGUAMENTI!" and a spray of water made the flames dissipated into nothing.

" _Come quietly, Roy Mustang, let's not do this the hard way…"_

Was he an Amestrian? The figure spoke the language quite proficiently, but his accent sounded as if the language was new to him. The accent sounded like Roy's, when he had first tried to speak English.

" _You're not Amestrian, aren't you?"_ Roy asked, and he couldn't help but feel better about speaking his native language after quite a long time.

" _Mmm…"_ the cloaked figure removed his hood, revealing a middle-aged face, beady but greedy eyes, with features full of determination and allegiance. He tapped a tiny necklace round his neck. _"Translator charm. But I think you know how to speak English, do you not?"_

" _What do you want?"_ Roy demanded. _"I know you're not from the school."_

The figure sighed, then replied, _"If I had my way, I would not have asked the services of a filthy muggle. Yet it is not my way, but the Dark Lord's, which I will happily follow."_ The words _Dark Lord_ shot a spark in Roy's brain. He remembered, from the documents the wizards had sent the military, that the Dark Lord was the name Voldemort's followers called him. He did not attack, and the man continued, _"My name is Mulciber, and the Dark Lord asks of you one favour, and one favour alone, and you and the little alchemist will be rewarded handsomely."_ He smiled a cruel grin. _"Kill Albus Dumbledore and bring Harry Potter to us. Do this, and you will be rewarded. A simple favour to ask, right?"_

" _What makes you think I will do this?"_ Roy asked slowly, turning his back on the man – Mulciber, now he knew.

" _Well, not many wizards know this, but alchemy was a power that assisted us greatly during the Wizarding War… I know quite a few state alchemists given to us to help. I don't think Amestris knew about their little soldiers being fighters in_ our _war… Alchemy is a power not many wizards understand. It would be easier to kill someone with it, is it not? And the little alchemist who went with you, he's in the same class and year as Potter. He can help, at least. If not, just one is fine. After all, you're a soldier, aren't you, Roy Mustang? You killed plenty of people in the Ishval War, just finishing off one old man wouldn't do any harm-"_

Roy turned around instantly, now having finished the transmutation circle he had written on the ground. Blue lightning crackled as he placed his palms down on it, and it died down as a spear rose up. Roy grabbed the spear and rushed towards him.

Mulciber was too fast, and Roy had to commend his reflexes; he waved his wand, yelled, "EXPULSO!" and a flash of blue light came speeding towards the spear, and it exploded into two. _"You dare beat me with a Muggle weapon?"_ he spat. _"A weapon that can easily be defeated by magic?"_

" _Well, at least you told me that not many wizards can understand alchemy. Hopefully, you're included."_ Flames encircled Mulciber, and as he waved his wand to extinguish them, Roy rubbed the glove again; a fiery explosion knocked the follower of Voldemort off his feet.

"IMPEDIMENTA!" Mulciber yelled as he hit the floor with a _thud,_ and Roy was violently thrown backward, his head hitting the hard floor. He touched the back of his head and looked his palm, now stained with crimson red liquid.

Roy used the blood leaking from the back of his head to form another transmutation circle, and spikes immediately rose up from the ground, one by one like dominos, leaving Mulciber to swiftly run backwards to dodge the spikes. The last spike, however, was the spike that Mulciber failed to escape; he screamed as it penetrated his bottom calf. He fell face first, blood pouring out from the wound.

Roy walked towards him, aware that the blood at the back of his head wasn't any better than Mulciber's leg wound. Roy then leant down and picked up Mulciber's wand, brought out his gun and pointed it at the Voldemort minion's head. _"You underestimated the alchemists of Amestris,"_ he growled. _"Tell me all you know about Voldemort."_

" _Never – never!"_ Mulciber panted, groaning at the pain at his leg. _"I will – never – betray my Lord!"_

" _Tell me all you know,"_ Roy repeated, and after a second thought, pulled off the translator necklace in disgust. _"You aren't even worthy of speaking my language."_

"What on earth is this racket?" Roy heard McGonagall's voice from afar, and he turned to see the teacher herself shuffle into the battle scene. She gave a large gasp at the spikes and the trails of blood, and an even bigger gasp at Roy and Mulciber. She looked at Roy, and said firmly, "Explain."

Roy stood, ignoring the drops of blood he could feel on the back of his head, and pointed firmly at Mulciber, eyes now closed, wound continuing to spill out red liquid, the gun still aimed at his head. "I found an intruder here, Professor," he said simply. "He was not easy to deal with." He waved at the spikes and the tiny stray flames scattered across the floor absentmindedly. "But that is nothing; we need to see Dumbledore. He is a follower of Voldemort. He is here under Voldemort's orders."

McGonagall gave a shiver and flinched at the name, but regained her usual firm composure and said, "Well, this is important. Let us report this to Dumbledore. But first…" she waved her wand and muttered several words, and the spikes vanished, the flames extinguished, the blood cleaned off the floor. The hall looked exactly like the way Roy had entered it; it was as if no fight had happened at all… _if_ no-one had seen the last spike, still protruded in Mulciber's leg, the blood pouring down the spike, like an avalanche down a mountain.

"You are injured?" she queried, as she glanced at Roy's bloodstained hand.

"It's just back of my head," he replied, not bothered to correct his sentence. "Will be fine, though. I injured Mulciber more, I think."

"What spell?" she asked.

"I think…" Roy tapped his chin thoughtfully. "He said 'Impedimenta', and I was flung backwards. Hit my head while I did it."

She sighed. "Well…" she waved her wand again, and the spike disappeared, and an unconscious Mulciber was lifted up into the air, following McGonagall as she exited the hall, Roy following not far behind her. Drops of blood dripped onto the floor, but instantly vanished upon hitting the ground. _Magic,_ he thought.

They climbed up the staircases to Dumbledore's office, said the password to the gargoyle, and Dumbledore was sitting by his desk, reading off some piece of parchment. He looked up, eyes widened, and he adjusted his half-moon spectacles as he saw the suspended Mulciber in the air.

"Ah, Minerva, Roy, what brings you up to my office at this late hour…? Oh..." he looked at Mulciber, and then at the dripping blood. Roy stepped forward, and as Mulciber was laid down onto the floor, Roy used his blood to draw a transmutation circle around the wound on the follower of Voldemort's leg. Lightning flashed again, and the blood stopped dripping out.

"What did you do?" McGonagall peered at the wound.

"I attempted to close the wound with alchemy," Roy explained. "However, my strength is alchemy in combat." Yes, it was true. He knew that most state alchemists, bar a few, the former Crystal Alchemist, Tim Marcoh being one, that were better at causing the wounds than healing them. "Medical alchemy is not my strength. I only managed to stop bleeding. It will open soon if he is not treated." He patted the back of his head.

"You look wounded too, Roy," Dumbledore said, and he locked eyes with the Flame Alchemist. "Report."

"I saw Mulciber during my nightly patrols of the Hogwarts halls. He was an intruder, though I do not know how he made it in. He spoke to me in my language," and Roy held up the necklace with the translator charm. "He asked me of a favour the Dark Lord wanted. I said no, and we began to fight."

"Ah, I see," Dumbledore replied. "And tell me, Roy, what was the favour he and Lord Voldemort asked of you?"

"He wanted your death, sir, and Harry Potter sent to him."

"As expected of the Dark Lord himself," he said, and he took the necklace. "Tricky, tricky. He – or at least Mulciber – were that determined to complete the goal that he wove a translator charm into this necklace. Translator charms are very difficult to perform, especially when you try to translate it to and from the languages you want. They don't last very long, either." He waved his wand and pointed it at Mulciber, and ropes immediately appeared and tied themselves around him. Then Dumbledore looked at Roy. "Turn around."

He reluctantly did, and he could see the two wizards grimacing at the dried and flowing blood at the back of his head. "Minerva," Dumbledore said, "fetch Severus if you please… tell him to bring a batch of Veritaserum if there is still some left. And tell Madam Pomfrey an injured teacher will arrive in her hospital wing shortly, and that she is to come prepared."

The Transfiguration teacher nodded and promptly left, leaving Roy confused about this _Veritaserum._

"So…" Dumbledore began. "You're lucky. You could have gotten a concussion. But… dear Mulciber's wound looks like it has began healing now that you've stopped the bleeding. Why has been wounded in the first place?"

"He simply didn't want to surrender quietly, sir," Roy replied, and he was surprised that his voice had lowered its volume to a whisper. "I am a soldier. If one chooses not to surrender quietly, I am to fight him and arrest him – with force."

 _It's not as if I like it,_ Roy thought irritably. It was the way to capture terrorists and serial killers back in Amestris. It was only done if they didn't surrender quietly – and sadly, that was mostly all the time.

Roy and Dumbledore turned, when a sudden groan interrupted his thoughts, and Mulciber woke and sat up from the floor. He glared at Roy, then spat at Dumbledore, "YOU!"

"Me," Dumbledore replied calmly.

"Where's my wand?!" he hissed. "Where's – my – _bloody –_ wand?!"

Roy brought it out and twirled it absentmindedly between two fingers. Mulciber swore at him. "Give that back, you fucking _muggle,"_ he growled. "Your hands aren't pure enough to touch it." He attempted to escape his tied-up status, but the ropes simply tightened magically and increased his struggles.

Roy stepped in front of him, and locked eyes in front of him. "Tell me all you know about Voldemort."

"You think I will?!" he snarled. "I will not betray my master, fall to the ranks of _muggles,_ I refuse to tell you anything-"

"Equivalent exchange," Roy cut in. He held out Mulciber's wand, which was just out of his reach. "You tell me about Voldemort, and I will give you your wand back and set you free. I doubt your master will be happy seeing you anyways, because you failed in recruiting me."

"Mulciber," Dumbledore said firmly, "why did you go after Roy Mustang?"

Mulciber hesitated, keeping his mouth shut, and Roy brought out his gun again and pointed it at the most vulnerable spot on his head. "Never," he whispered. "I will not betray my Lord. I will not be like Avery, who has stepped out of the Dark Lord's good graces-"

"Just _shut up, will you?"_ Roy snapped, not realising he had spoken Amestrian for the last four words. The door to Dumbledore's office opened, and in came McGonagall, followed by Severus Snape, holding a small flask of liquid. His lip curled slightly seeing Roy, then turned his focus towards Mulciber.

"Snape," he spat.

"Mulciber," Snape replied calmly. "I remember you from my school days. Haven't changed too much, I see." Ignoring Mulciber's splutters, he stood at the side, close to Dumbledore's desk. "So, dear Mulciber," Dumbledore began, silencing the follower of Voldemort. "Roy found you intruding into school grounds." His eyes glimmered. "Please tell me why you are here at this hour and time… on a mission from Lord Voldemort, perhaps?"

"You filthy Mudblood, you're not worthy of saying the Dark Lord's name," Mulciber growled. "None of you are – my Lord will reward me, he will hold me as the highest of the highest-"

Roy pointed his gun at Mulciber's head, and his Flame Alchemy glove ready for a spark. "Answer Dumbledore," he ordered. "Or else I will blow this head of yours off, or incinerate you." Roy sighed. This was the kind of attitude he led when capturing leaders and notable members of the East Area's notorious terrorist groups. He never thought he would have to do this in magic land.

"Do that, then, at least don't touch me, I don't need your filthy hands to stain my pure blood," Mulciber spat at him, and Roy wiped the saliva off his cheek. "Do whatever you want, even try to fucking kill me, I'll make sure the Dark Lord's requests of me will be fulfilled, I will fulfil my duty-"

Roy simply took Mulciber's confiscated wand and observed it carefully. Then he held it close to his Flame Alchemy glove. With a _snap,_ the stick was reduced to ashes. His fellow staff watched him, and Dumbledore said, "Next time, Roy, please refrain from destroying wands. They can prove to be very good materials of evidence."

Roy nodded. He gestured to Mulciber. "He wished to recruit me," he said. "He told me to kill you and bring Potter to him. I think his sole purpose of being here was to see me, but I think it's better if you go and interrogate him." Roy had remembered several interrogations of criminals back in Amestris; he had visited Central Prison several times, and with Maes Hughes recording it down on paper, Roy would interrogate the criminal in his cell. One or two times it would begin with a bout of filthy swear words, followed by a _clack_ by Hawkeye's gun and then a glare at it, then the criminal would speak in nothing but clipped and brief sentences. But what happened next was something Roy didn't expect – Snape stepped forward, and force-fed him the liquid in the flask he had brought with him. Mulciber coughed, and for a second Roy suspected poisoning, then Mulciber regained his normal composure.

"Now," Dumbledore said firmly. "Mulciber, how does Voldemort know about Roy Mustang? And why would he risk his secrecy and concealment to contact him?"

"Not just Roy Mustang," Mulciber spoke in a fast, feverish tone as soon as Dumbledore had asked him the question, to Roy's surprise, "He knows about Edward Elric too, he wishes to contact the young alchemist as well."

Now _that_ was valuable information.

"But how does You-Know-Who know?" McGonagall said sharply.

Mulciber sighed. He coughed and coughed, as if he was in a battle with himself. "He – he, no, no… he… I do not know… except – he – has told us – the faithful ones – he has eyes and ears within the Ministry, but mostly – no, no – I shouldn't – (cough) – in Hogwarts grounds. But I do not know anything else, no more!"

Roy glanced at Dumbledore. "Is he lying?"

"No," the Headmaster replied in a tone which seemed to be the mix of disdain and cheerfulness, which Roy thought was impossible. "This is all true. Now, Mulciber," he turned to him again, "Can you tell me Voldemort's current plans? Especially with what he would like to do with Roy and Edward?"

"He-" Mulciber suddenly lurched forward, coughing and coughing. He shook his head several times, and Roy wondered if he was beginning to turn mad – was that the effects of the concoction Snape had given him? Mulciber then slumped backwards unconsciously; blood and foam was spilling from his mouth. The sight made Roy want to turn away, and that was what McGonagall did – nothing but horror and disgust in her eyes. Snape looked at him, then at Dumbledore, who cleared his throat and said, "I think that's it." He snapped his fingers. "Minerva, Severus, take him somewhere within our walls and imprison him there. Keep him there 'til he awakes." The two teachers nodded, and before they left, Roy tapped Snape on the shoulder, and asked, "That liquid. What did you give him?"

"Veritaserum," Snape replied stiffly, almost reluctantly. "Truth Potion. If you are to consume even a small drop of this in your body, I will be able to ask you your personal secrets, your plans, your deepest, darkest secrets… I will be able to ask you _anything_ you know _,_ and you will answer." Then he left and with a flick of his robes, shut the door, leaving shivers down Roy's spine.

When they had gone, Dumbledore coughed into his fist. "Roy, when I asked for you and Edward to be at Hogwarts, I asked for Edward to protect Harry from the threats of Voldemort that endanger his safety." Roy nodded, and the Headmaster continued: "You may have inferred this already, but I also ask of you not _just_ to protect Harry, but to the lesser extent, the school…"

Roy nodded. "Of course, sir… I am a soldier, and our job is to obey."

"Thank you, Roy. If something wrong was ever to happen to me during this mission," his eyes twinkled, "I remind you that I ordered you here as not Headmaster, but Head of the Order of the Phoenix. Do you understand?"

"I do…"

"Now get to the hospital wing. The bleeding that you have is not seeming to stop, despite your use of medical alchemy. I will inform Madam Pomfrey of your arrival, too."

"Alright." The last thing Roy wanted to do was go to a hospital wing and get himself treated, but Dumbledore was right. He patted the back of his head; the blood was beginning to drip again.

"Goodnight, Roy. I hope you get better."

And with that, Dumbledore waved his hand in dismissal, and Roy quickly departed, a feeling of ominous comings in his heart.

* * *

"Elric was right, Harry. Umbridge has been intercepting and reading your mail. There's no other explanation."

Harry felt outraged by this. He had heard Elric's accusations but had pushed them away in the little hope they weren't true. Now, with the memory of last night, the hand poking around in the fire, his worst fears were confirmed. _She_ was the one reading his mail? _She_ was the one who hurt Hedwig?

He swore loudly at the same time his raven cawed – something he was thankful for. Elric, who had been sitting next to him after the trio had called for him to sit with them (The words of Alphonse Elric's letter still rang in his head), had been a little quieter than usual. He had not joined in the conversation, instead listening intently while at the same time writing an essay as an alternative to not being able to do magic for the Silencing Charm.

The end of the Charms lesson ended in extra homework, but to Harry and Ron's pleasure, the Gryffindor Quidditch team were allowed to reform again. He felt pleased with the thought of going up in the air again with his broom, with the air buzzing as he flew. _It's been a long time since I've been at Quidditch practice…_

As the rain drone on, thick watery marbles plummeting from their dark bag and hitting the ground with pitter-patter sounds, to Harry's surprise, Hermione had been rethinking the idea of the Defence Against the Dark Arts group – when, surprisingly, it was _her_ idea in the first place. A heated discussion took place, and Harry was relieved to know Ron was taking his side against Hermione, to defend Sirius and that he wasn't 'egging them on.'

* * *

Ed sighed as he scanned the bookshelves for any books on Charms – particularly the Silencing Charm – to aid him in his essay. As he returned to his selected spot in the library he noticed Malfoy, who had looked like a shrivelled-up flower, coughing and wheezing.

"Did you find answer to my riddle yet?" Ed asked coolly.

"How can I, when I'm too busy trying to not pass out?" Malfoy said angrily. "I've been running your laps, it's too much!"

"If it is too much, go and quit," Ed replied. "I do not care. But if you quit, I will not teach you alchemy."

"What good is running for alchemy, anyway?" Malfoy said. "It's not like it's going to help you for alchemy."

"That is what I said to my teacher when she put me on wild island for a month," Ed said. Wizards were missing the point of alchemy, and he didn't want to teach anyone or have some apprentice or student anyway. "But teacher told me in order to train spirit, must train body first. Besides, running gives you more stamina and endurance, which will be good for advanced long-scale transmutations. Fighting is not done by just staying still." Ed sighed. "I think that is enough. I've already taught you a little already, so get back to running or just tell me you will quit."

"I'm not going to quit," Malfoy grunted snidely. "I will find the answer to your… _almost-impossible_ riddle."

Ed's eyes narrowed. "You have not even started running, have you?"

"What? No! I _have_ started…" his voice came to a falter as Ed replied, "I can see that you have not run. Your… I do not know word in English, your face appearance tells me you are lying. And I know if someone has been running or not."

"Well, it's not like I'm ready!"

"Get ready then, because I will see you tomorrow to make sure you start running."

He slowly ambled away, muttering snidely in a fast tone that he didn't catch the foreign English words. Ed frowned. He greatly doubted that Malfoy would succeed in solving the riddle of 'All is One, One is All.' It had taken him a while, and it was through his knowledge of the philosophies of alchemy and the universe that led him to the answer. Malfoy, he was sure, did not even have any rudimentary knowledge of alchemy (the stupid books Hogwarts offered did not count).

He watched the rain stain the glass windows in tiny watery drops and saw that even if the weather was not at its best, the wizards and witches were still committed to their 'quidditch' practice, which greatly confused Edward. He began to wonder if he needed to go down to the practices to protect Potter but then remembered that his latest letter and report response from Lieutenant Hawkeye had asked for him to do so.

Thunder boomed, and Ed wondered there was going to be any lightning. Honestly, if any lightning struck the Quidditch field, or at least any of the hoops, it would make the spectating of the practices even more fun.

After the practices, he saw Potter rub his forehead, Ron talking in a fast tone to him. They took dark glances at Ed, then shut up. _They want to keep something from me,_ Ed thought indifferently, but then Ron took a glance at Harry, and a gesture at Ed, and reluctantly, Harry said, in a low voice, "My scar hurt."

This confused Ed. "So…?"

Ron glared at him. "When Harry's scar is hurting, that means You-Know-Who is up to something!" he said. "Harry's scar was hurting while we were in the changing rooms!"

Ed widened his eyes. "Voldemort? What is happening? Is it bad?"

"He's angry," Harry whispered. "He wants something done, he wants someone… it's not getting fast enough… he was mad about not getting the person he wants…"

"Person?" Ron said, looking horrified. "Could he be meaning you?!"

"I don't know," Harry shook his head. "It seems like… he's realising that he hasn't got what he wants… now he's angry…"

"So temper tantrum, yes?" Ed said, in the hope for a little humour. Ron and Harry looked at him, and their mouths twitched into small smiles. "Yeah," Harry nodded, chuckling. "He's probably mad because he isn't getting his favourite toy."

They walked back to the Gryffindor common room, but on their way they met Mustang. Ed had seen him from a distance away, but as he came closer, nodding firmly at Ed, he noticed that there were bandages wrapped around the top and back of his head. Widening his eyes, he turned to Harry and Ron, who looked confused as he did.

"Did Mustang get injured or something?" Ron said, looking at Ed for confirmation.

Ed shrugged his shoulders. "Do not know, was asking you same thing." He waved quickly to Harry and Ron, and rushed off to follow Mustang, who had been about to turn right into another hallway when he noticed Ed. He sighed. _"I knew you would do that."_

" _What's with the new fashion statement, Mustang?"_ Ed asked, raising his eyebrows. _"Did you get injured?"_

Mustang bit his lip nervously, then shook his head. _"It's nothing, Fullmetal. It's not permanent damage. I'll be fine."_

" _But what happened?"_

Mustang looked around anxiously, then whispered, _"I'll tell you later. It's not safe to say right now. But I'll make sure you'll know. It – it's nothing too serious."_ But Ed could hear the lack of conviction in his voice, the trembling nervousness. However, he knew better than to stoop down to the level of nosy wizards. He nodded, said, _"Goodnight,"_ then headed towards the Gryffindor common room, where to his surprise, Harry and Ron – with the addition of Hermione – were waiting.

"What happened to Mustang?" Harry demanded.

 _Damn you, wizards._ Thinking that they were entitled to every bit of information. Ed could almost scoff, but there were times when he had been like them. Not as much as them, however.

"He did not tell me," Ed said. "I will be going to bed now."

Harry raised his eyebrows in doubt, and Ed refrained from rolling eyes at their not believing. "He did not tell me, okay?!" He sighed.

"Not even one thing?" Hermione asked.

"He said it will be all fine," Ed snapped. _Nosy wizards._ Wanting to peek their big heads into anything that didn't concern them.

"Tell us when you know," Ron said. "Alright?"

Ed said nothing, but left them and went straight to the dorms.

* * *

When Draco had arrived at the Quidditch pitch, Elric was waiting for him, face blank, eyes expressionless, nothing of him revealing anything. He bit his lip. As much as he did not want to run, after a long period of pondering over Elric's deal of daily Muggle running around the school grounds, he reluctantly got out of bed early in the morning to begin.

"So, I just run?" he asked the alchemist. "Around the Quidditch pitch?"

Elric shook his head. "Run around the whole school grounds."

"What?!" Draco looked at him indignantly. "You said I could choose the Quidditch grounds!"

"I changed my mind."

What Draco wanted to greatly do was take out his wand and lock him into a Body-Bind Curse or some other hex or jinx, but he was sure that any violent retaliation against an honorary guest of the school would lead him to some fairly horrible repercussions. Also Elric wouldn't teach him alchemy. His hand reached towards his wand, then instantly moved away from it when Elric said, "You want to fight me with wand? Then what is point of learning alchemy?"

"What's the point in running for alchemy?" Draco asked. "It's got to do with channelling the energy of the earth, not running?"

Elric gave him a steely glare behind his golden bangs, sending shivers up his spine. "My teacher told me 'in order to train spirit and mind, must train body.' You wizards do nothing but spells and spells and spells. All the alchemy in the world will make no difference if they do not reach its target." He sighed. "If you do not want to run, then go away and do not bother me with wanting to know alchemy. You are wasting my time."

He turned to leave, then Draco said, "I'll do it, then." Damn it, he was not going to let himself lose to a Muggle, even though Elric was a Muggle who had a power not very Muggle-like at all. "But what do you mean, all the alchemy in the world will make no difference if they don't reach the target?"

"You do not get it?"

"Why am I asking, then, if I _do_ know?"

Elric sighed and reached into his pocket with his right gloved hand. The thing he had taken out seemed unclear to him – Draco had almost thought it had been a wand, but that was stupid. Elric was a Muggle. The thin stick he had pulled out was a white feather quill. "Take this out of my hand. Using magic."

"Magic? That'll be easy though…" Draco took out his wand, pointed it straight at the quill and yelled, "EXPELLIARMUS!"

A jet of red light spurted out from the tip of the wand, heading in a straight forward line towards its intended target, but Elric seemed to know better. _Too late._ Draco bit back a filthy curse. _Expelliarmus_ had been ineffective as Elric had simply quickly moved to the left upon Draco saying the last syllable of the incantation. Smirking, the alchemist spun the quill in his hand, whistling a small tune as he did so.

"You see?" Elric called. "You must be fast in fight. And to be fast, you must exercise and work hard, as well as think for next move at the same time. That is what alchemy is about. That is why I want you to run and find answer to my riddle."

Oh yes. The riddle. Draco had forgotten about that stupid riddle. 'All is one, one is all.' He hadn't been thinking too much about it since the day Elric had brokered a deal with him for the alchemy lessons. But then he realised it was very important. After all, if he was not able to solve that riddle in three guesses, the deal would be off.

"Ready to run?" Elric said.

Draco sighed. "Alright then," he said. _Let's at least get this over with,_ he thought bitterly. _I need to consult the alchemy books after this, even though they're lacking._

He began to run around the grounds, Elric watching him take off. He had taken off at a reasonable speed, becoming faster and faster, increasing his confidence. But time passed, and he swore as he began to pant heavily, perspiration falling from his forehead to his cheeks, then down to the ground. Draco's vision became blurry, he was sure he could think of nothing but to either keep on running or to just give in and pass out.

What happened next? He wasn't so sure. Draco was beyond exhausted – he wanted to die, he wanted to lie down, he wanted to do something other than running. _Anything other than this hell…_

The next events happened to be a blur, passing quickly. Draco wanted to yell at Elric, for subjecting him to this. His heart was pounding against his chest at the speed of light, his knees hitting the grass with a _thump._

The _thump_ was surely the last thing Draco was sure to remember when he woke up in the hospital wing.

* * *

When Ron had entered the Potions classroom, the first thing he had heard was the Slytherins chattering fast-paced and feverish to one another.

Normally, he would have ignored the Slytherins, because they were nothing but sly little shits to him, especially Malfoy. But to his surprise, the pale blond boy was not with his lackeys that day, with Crabbe and Goyle leaving a space between the both of them. For that, he, Harry and Hermione decided to take their places fairly close to the green house, and Ron, under the pretence of carefully preparing the cauldron and slowly looking for his quills and parchment.

"… Couldn't possibly know what happened to Malfoy, don't you?"

"Not really, no, but all I know is that he's in the hospital wing."

Malfoy? In the hospital wing? The thought made Ron smirk – oh, how he so wanted to visit that son of a slippery snake in his weakened state, to see him probably suffering in agony –

"How did he get there, though?"

"I don't know, but he's been there since early morning."

"I saw him last night in the common room, he seemed perfectly fine…"

"The thing is," Harry said a few minutes later to him and Hermione, "even the Slytherins don't know why he's in the hospital wing. Sounds suspicious, doesn't it?"

"Especially when he seems to have been good the night before," Ron agreed. "Looking back, I don't think he was at breakfast this morning either." He recalled back to breakfast – the Slytherin table had been scattered, full of chatter within the green-tied students, but he did not remember any boastful, any familiar voice that could track back to Draco Malfoy.

"Maybe it isn't suspicious," said Hermione, not sounding convinced with the two boys' intuitions. "He probably got a stomach bug or a cold or just didn't feel well today…"

"Whatever it is, I hope he stays there for long," said Harry viciously, then sighed. "Now to discuss the new Defence group and the new place…" he whispered. "I found a good place to hold it."

Hermione and Ron widened their eyes. "Really?" Ron asked, voice lowering as he glanced around. "Where? How were you able to get a place that Umbridge won't easily find out?"

Harry smiled weakly at both of them, and was about to open his mouth, until Snape – that troll – swept into the dungeons with his stony face, all chatter and flurry ceasing, with no sound but the hurry to bring out quills and parchment and all necessary equipment for the class.

When the class had ended, Harry, Ron and Hermione caught up with Elric, who was speedily packing all his work and shoving them into his bag, then Ron put his arm on him.

"What you need?" he asked, voice sounding irritated and annoyed. "I need to do something."

"Shouldn't you be keeping close to Harry, since you're a bodyguard and everything?" Ron hissed, and Elric glared at him, then resumed to pack his things, saying, "Bodyguarding is not the main reason I am here."

Ron opened his mouth, and as they exited the Potions classroom, Harry said, "Don't mind Ron. I just have to tell you something for the new meeting. Tonight, eight o'clock, seventh floor opposite that tapestry or Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by all those trolls." He wrinkled his nose. "Not quite a sight. But anyways, it's there. I'm going to tell the others later."

"Sure," Elric nodded, he parted ways with them towards the other direction.

But one small sentence that Elric had said had bothered Ron in his mind. _'Bodyguarding is not the main reason I am here.'_ So what was the main reason? He bit his lip. He was sure the Order had asked Elric and Mustang to attend Hogwarts to keep an eye on Harry… _but the Ministry asked them to come here in the first place,_ a small voice nagged in his head. Of course. Would Elric and Mustang be reporting to the Ministry? Heck, where _they_ responsible for the new educational decree? Had Ed told Umbridge, being a member of the Ministry ready to directly report to Fudge whenever it was necessary, and then helped to impose the new decree disbanding all groups and organisations and clubs within Hogwarts?

Ron grabbed Harry's arm. "Don't."

"Don't what, mate?"

"I think–" Ron sighed. "Don't you think it's a little _risky_ having Elric in our secret Defence group?"

"Ron…"

"Think about it! Elric was brought here from the Ministry. They're soldiers and they have to obey their clients. So, what if Elric told Umbridge about the plans? I mean, mate, he was there at the meetings. So why wouldn't he easily report to Umbridge? And Mustang… I think we'll have to watch out for him as well."

There was a pause, then Harry shook his head. "We can trust them…"

"How can you know that, Harry?"

"It was when I was sent to McGonagall's office. You know, when I had received my first detention from that fucking witch, Umbridge. Mustang pulled me aside before we went in. He warned me not to underestimate him and Elric and the capability of the Amestrian military." Harry sighed. "He also told me to not get the wrong idea in thinking they were under Umbridge. He said that the Ministry only asked them to be honorary guests here at Hogwarts, while Dumbledore ordered them to… well, protect me. And the way he was talking, he was saying that they'd follow both orders without betraying either side." Harry hesitated, then said, "But I'm still fairly suspicious of them. I still have a lot of questions to be answered."

Hermione, who had stayed quiet for the whole 'suspicious of Elric' thing, said, "You know, I have been a little curious of Edward's past since the letter Alphonse sent us."

"The letter?" Being frank, the letter had slipped from Ron's mind the night they had received it.

"What we currently know is that they don't have a mother or father," Hermione said, "and that they left their hometown to reach a 'goal.' What would that goal be?"

"I don't think it would matter too much," Ron said, "but I'm sure there's a connection between that goal and his… job."

"It wouldn't be any use asking Elric," Harry said, sighing, "I'm sure he'll say nothing about it anyways. There's also the letter from Alphonse we have to think about."

"We haven't been doing our job to keep an eye on Edward, right?" Hermione asked nervously.

"And Elric hasn't been doing a proper job on keeping an eye on Harry," Ron piped in. "The way I see it, it's what the alchemists say – it's equivalent exchange."

Ron was pleased to see Harry break into a laugh, and then, after a moment's hesitation, Hermione, as they headed off to their next class.

* * *

 _Seventh floor opposite some tapestry of some guy getting clubbed by trolls…_

Ed was sure he had come to the right place, but from what he had gathered by gazing around the place was that there was nothing there, just doors that led into classrooms. He cursed. The wizards weren't _that_ dumb, weren't they? Of course ,they at least had _some_ sense of being stealthy and inconspicuous…

Today was the first meeting for their Defence group. His mind traced back to the meetup of the group back in Hogsmeade, and Ed's lip curled at the thought of trying to teach alchemy to the students. No way in hell was he going to do that. Having some Slytherin boy trying to become an apprentice under his tutelage was enough, especially when said Slytherin boy was currently recovering in the hospital wing and had passed out, forcing Ed to carry him all the way to a horrified Madam Pomfrey.

His lip curled even more at recalling Zacharias' voice and his indifference towards alchemy.

" _Alchemy? Get him to teach us some muggle power?!"_ Alchemy was something that was very un-muggle-like, in Ed's opinion. He bit his lip. The fight between Ed and Smith was supposed to happen. But it had been obvious to him they were expecting Smith to win. None of them knew about alchemy, none of them knew about transmutations, no-one knew about how dark alchemy could be, no-one knew about the taboo –

"Elric? You're really early today."

He looked up, and saw Harry, Ron and Hermione standing in front of him. He shook his head. "I thought it would be better." He gestured to the classrooms and the whole corridor. "But there is no special place to practise. Unless you want to do Defence in the open hallway."

"No, no, we're not doing that," Harry reassured him. "Come on, walk with us, we need to look for somewhere."

"No plan then?"

"… Not really, no."

"So you make it up on spot?"

"Kind of… I guess."

Ed smirked. "A good choice. That is what I do as well."

Glancing around, Ed heard Harry mutter as the four of them walk, "We need somewhere to practise… to learn to fight… where they can't find us…"

Ed didn't understand what he was talking about. It was not if some door was going to appear in front of them and give them exactly what they wanted…

… Well, damn wizards. It turned out Ed was wrong.

Upon entering a fancy, silver, polished door that Ed could swear had never been there before, he noticed that the room was very spacious – bigger than any of the classrooms he had visited. Silk cushions lay nice and plump and neat among the floor, and wooden bookcases with books Ed had never seen before lay together like the library's.

While Hermione expressed her admiration and her impressed expression at the books and the objects in the room, Ed turned to Harry. "What is this place? How did you find it?"

"Dobby," Harry replied, and Ed, in confusion, took note to try and find out this 'Dobby' source who had given them access into this mysterious room. "It's called the Room of Requirement. It appears when the seeker wants it most, and it gives the seeker whatever he or she needs."

Ed sighed. "Really?" His heart was beginning to pick up pace, but he could not exactly find the reason for this. "You can find anything the seeker needs?"

Harry shrugged. "You can try."

Ed closed his eyes and looked around. Concentrating hard, he whispered in his mind: _I need some alchemy texts. Proper alchemy texts, not the stupid shit Hogwarts has. Proper alchemy books that can help me with trying to find the Philosopher's Stone…_

Looking up, he noticed a new bookshelf next to the one Hermione had been marvelling over. He quickly strolled over to it, and to his surprise and his joy, alchemy books were stacked together in neat piles together, and Ed opened one up – to even more of his pleasure, the texts were authentic and were full of genuine information. Even better to Ed, they were in the Amestrian language.

Ed took the books he wanted to read the most first and put them together in a pile next to his silk cushion, just as the first batch of people arrived, and slowly more and more people had arrived, all amazed at the room.

Zacharias Smith had been the last to arrive in. Smith didn't seem to forget about Ed or the fight they were supposed to have, for they exchanged angry looks at each other. It was almost as if their eyes exchanged dangerous beams of light or lightning.

Once everyone had taken their seat, Harry began their first meeting. They had all decided to elect a leader, and everyone had decided for Harry. _There was no point electing, then,_ Ed thought. Then the group discussed names, and Ed couldn't help but snort at the name they had finally chosen.

 _DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY._

Clearly, the wizards did not understand the meaning of the word 'army.' He was sure Mustang would not entirely approve of the name either. Ed was a State Alchemist, a dog of Amestris' 'army.' Though he had not experienced it yet (but was expecting it as a state alchemist), he was sure an 'army' meant trekking through harsh terrains with intense conditions, fighting and killing whoever the state acknowledged as an enemy, with death at every corner. That was basically Amestrian's 'army' in war, especially during Ishval. Though Ed didn't understand what it truly meant to be part of it, he was sure Mustang still bore the scars.

He hoped that he or any of the wizards would never have to go through what he did.

"Alright," Hermione said, as if she were a boss or a high-ranking official in the military, "we're going to sign our names again here," she tapped her quill on a piece of parchment. The whole thing made Ed sleepy, his thoughts like always went back to Al and Amestris… had his brother found any breakthroughs? The chance of finding a lead was very small, however, and even if they did they would be at a standstill while Ed was stuck protecting some teenager perfectly capable of protecting himself –

"Hey, Elric?" Dean Thomas had handed him the quill and the piece of parchment with different signatures under the large title with Hermione's writing: _DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY._ Sighing, he took them both, signing his name as quick as he could like he always did for papers back in Amestris, indifferent to the messiness of it.

The next thing Ed realised is how useless and pointless it was for him to attend the Defence meetings as Harry announced the 'army' that they would be practising a spell – a Disarming Charm in particular. It seemed like a good spell to learn, especially since according to Harry it had saved him from the clutches of Voldemort.

From the briefing, it had occurred to Ed that Voldemort had been trying to kill him since Harry first entering Hogwarts. It surprised him that the Order had considered a bodyguard just this year.

From a quick count, Ed calculated that the total number of people excluding Harry in the Room of Requirement was 25, which meant that one was going to miss out on the pairings. Ed decided that the 'one' would be him. As everyone paired up, Ed met eyes with Zacharias again and yes, from the way Smith had looked at him, the fight was inevitable.

A little into the Disarming Charm practising, Ed was slipping into boredom. It made him annoyed. Wouldn't it be better to engage in friendly physical duels, or something physical at all? It seemed that physical education was something that many in the wizarding world lacked.

He walked up to Harry and tapped him on the shoulder.

"What is it, Elric?"

"Will you not be teaching physical lessons?"

"Physical – lessons?"

"Yes, like running, exercising, the lot." Ed sighed. "And to be honest I think you wizards need it, especially with all the heavy rich foods you eat every day."

"What would be the point of exercising?" said an irritated voice in the background. "Magic covers all that we need to do in a fight."

"Would you call wizard duels a fight?" Ed shot back to Smith. "Just stand still like statue while throwing around stupid spells at each other?"

The whole Dumbledore's Army had stopped their fight to watch the two.

"Talking of fights," Smith said, "I believe you promised a fight between you and I. You're not backing out of this, are you?"

"Of course not," Ed growled. "If I win, we do running and you tell me alchemy is superior. "

"And if _I_ win," Smith said, "we drop all this alchemy shit, we don't do running and we entirely focus on magic and Defence."

"Deal." Ed breathed in deeply. Picking fights with those he didn't like was a common specialty of his. Most of the time it was the enemy's fault, just like Lieutenant Yoki's regime in Youswell. This was one of the times.

Harry ordered everyone to stand back, but Ed felt that was unnecessary. _This fight will be over really quickly, anyway._ Soon the whole room had cleared with just Ed and Smith in the centre, Harry, Ron and Hermione standing a few steps away and the rest of the Army staying on the outer boundaries of the room.

"I'll go first, then," Smith said, lifting his wand and pointing it straight at Ed, yelling an incantation at the top of his lungs.

A jet of light erupted from the wand tip, but Ed's reflexes acted quicker. He instantly brought his hands together in a praying motion with the loud _CLAP_ sound, then slammed both palms on the floor. Immediately, to the gasps of Dumbledore's Army, lightning crackled as a sign of the alchemical energy, and a wall erupted from the ground, taking the full brunt of the spell. Ed noticed small cracks that slowly grew bigger and spread across the whole wall, as it crumbled to nothing but rubble.

Ed slapped his palms again, placing them on the floor. The smell of lightning filled the air again, as a metal spear raised itself up from the ground. The butt of the spear was grabbed by Ed, who turned it around and pointed it at Smith.

"Expelliarmus!" he yelled, and Ed was surprised at how he was able to master the charm in the duration of just one lesson, but at the last syllable, just as he had with Draco Malfoy, he quickly dodged it by swiftly moving to the side.

"Amazing…" he heard Harry whisper as Ed moved to the side. Yes, it was amazing, and he had to thank his Teacher and his duels with Al. They had increased his speed and stamina, which was incredibly important for someone who ran into trouble time and time again.

Ed swung the spear at Smith, who dodged by lowering his head just in the nick of time. Muttering a word Ed couldn't hear, he pointed his wand at the spear, and a line of light spilled out, making impact with the spear, forcing it to crack into two.

Cursing, he raised his left gloved fist and pushed it against Smith's cheek. He went flying and he slammed into the floor, his wand rolling out of reach. Clapping his hands together, he created a sword with a gothic-style handle out of the wall. _Well, that was easy…_ he ambled over and picked up Smith's wand, then pointed the sword at his throat.

"I think this means I win," Ed said calmly, stowing the wand in the pocket of his robes.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading Chapter 12._

 _Thank you to all those who also pointed out that the end of the chapter had not been completed. I thought it had until the readers had pointed it out. So thank you to Kain Vixenheim, Soulfire47, actionliker and Bellagun for reminding me._


	13. Chapter 13

One thing Harry noticed during the fight between Elric and Zacharias Smith was that as soon as Smith had slammed into the floor and had picked himself up to glare angrily at the alchemist, he noticed a few drops of blood fall from Smith's mouth, plummet towards the floor then disappear into nothing as if it had been under the Vanishing Spell.

"I think I win," Elric said calmly, as he took Smith's wand and placed it in his robe pocket, while still pointing the sword at his throat. It was surprising and kind of cool to see Elric show the power of alchemy to beat Smith. It was like the fight scenes in the violent movies his cousin Dudley enjoyed while Harry secretly watched them from the tiny gap behind the couch.

The whole of Dumbledore's Army was silent. It was obvious to Harry that they had not expected alchemy to be _that_ powerful. Two girls gave several gasps at the conclusion of the battle. Neville and Dean exchanged looks and began to whisper quickly to each other.

"What Edward just did now is called a transmutation," Harry could hear Hermione whisper knowledgeably to him, Ron and everyone else who was within earshot. "But like magic and a wand, alchemy needs a transmutation circle to perform. However, it doesn't show that he doesn't use circles, his gloves don't have any circles on them – all he does is clap to channel the power and the transmutation happens. That's _incredible,"_ she breathed.

"I think I prove my point in saying alchemy is more powerful than you think," Elric said, as he slowly moved the sword away. He placed his palms on the floor, then pointed the sword tip towards the ground. Then energy crackled for the last time, then the sword slowly broke into microscopic pieces as it sank slowly below the surface.

However, it did not seem like Elric was ready to return the wand.

Alchemy seemed to be an amazing power, though it did not have the same limitations or levels of magic. Clenching his fists in his pockets, he thought of how effective it would be to attack Voldemort and the Death Eaters with this strange type of new power. His mind also went to the speed Elric had been fighting at. It was very fast, and the way he had dodged Smith's Disarming Charm.

Would that be the result of training the body physically, as Elric said?

Smith, on the other hand, looked most displeased. He grunted, wiping dust off his robes, then wiping his mouth and licking the blood off. He held his hand out at the Amestrian. "What?"

"My wand."

"What about your wand?"

"Give it back to me."

"I do not think I want to give it now. Ask for it later."

"Give it!"

"I will not." Elric sighed. "You also have not kept your part of the deal, where you admit alchemy is a superior power to your magic."

Dumbledore's Army shifted, as if they had been the ones who had fully agreed to it and were now regretting the choice. "Wait, Elric," Ernie Macmillan spoke up. "You can't just ask a wizard to shamefully admit a greater power than magic. It's a source of shame-"

"He brought it onto himself," Elric said coldly. "It is not a big deal anyways." He muttered inaudible Amestrian as he made his way back to his silk cushion, and Smith, looking as if he was about to explode with anger, rushed towards the alchemist, and reached for Elric's wand pocket, but Elric was faster. To Harry's surprise , he grabbed Smith's arm with his right hand, and Smith let out a yelp (Harry speculated that the grip was fairly painful) then shoved Smith away, saying, "Ask for it later."

Smith opened his mouth to reply, but prudently closed it. He sighed, and silently made his way to the Hufflepuffs, who, like the rest of the Dumbledore's Army, looked shocked. There was a long, almost painful silence that was so tense and strained that the uneasiness could almost be seen in the air which Harry decided to break by saying, "I think we'll have an early end to today's meeting."

"Yes," Hermione agreed in a tiny squeak. "It's ten past nine, we have to hurry before curfew begins. Filch will be coming soon."

The group seemed happy with this; slowly cleaning up the mess they had made, with the chatter at the volume of whispers. While they did so, Elric had approached him, and said, "Remember the deal," then headed away. Harry decided not to irritate him. The alchemist seemed like he was already angry with Smith and the fight.

"Alright," Harry said, "you all did good, but we're going to end it now." After a minute of discussion, the next Wednesday night was chosen.

But before the whole group departed the Room of Requirement, Harry added, "Oh, and before next meeting, could you all run a lap or two around the Quidditch pitch or something? Or maybe even once a week or a day? Something that I learned today is that we need to train our bodies as well as our spells."

Elric looked at him, his lips playing at a small smile, among the groans and indignant complaints among Dumbledore's Army. Soon, the protests had ceased and become reluctant agreements, then they left.

Harry felt good that night, he was sure that the group was going to prosper and get better. He silently thanked Hermione as he, Ron and Elric left her for the boys' dormitories – the Defence meeting hadn't been such a bad idea after all. He looked at Elric, still with Smith's wand. It was almost if he had had a dark side during fighting. He shivered, and another thought – maybe a suspicion – about Elric passed in his mind, but he had forgotten it instantly. He shook his head as he made his way onto his four-poster and drifted off to sleep.

" _Has Mulciber not returned yet?"_

 _He was growing impatient, stroking Nagini out of anxiety – no, it was not anxiety or nervousness. More like preparedness, getting ready to unleash his fury and his snake onto Mulciber, imagining a said scenario where he declared his failure to bring the target back._

" _I could," Avery said as he stood, almost slipping into a stammer, "I could go, my Lord, I will not fail-"_

" _You have already failed me, Avery!" he almost yelled at the Death Eater, but nevertheless Avery flinched out of fear. "You had your chance and you failed me. Would you like me to keep you in your place and punish you again?"_

" _N-no, my Lord," Avery whispered._

" _If Mulciber's plan fails to get our target, we take the boy," he said. "I need the boy to come… I need him to come… he meets my requirements…" he sighed. "He will come. I will make sure of that."_

* * *

Roy headed down to the deepest parts of the castle, accompanying McGonagall who was lighting the way down the stair steps with her wand.

 _This feels a little gothic-style,_ Roy thought to himself mentally as they made their way deeper. He bit his lip. It was slightly cold, and Roy could almost see the thick air of foreboding and suspense as they made their way down to Mulciber.

Their first meeting was still fresh in his mind, the bandages had still been wrapped around his head. The translator necklace the Death Eater had used was still in his pocket, but if what Dumbledore had said about Translation Charms was correct, the charm wound around the necklace would have disappeared completely.

McGonagall, who had been leading the way, had her lips pursed throughout the whole journey. She had been staying silent the whole trip, but Roy knew the events of Mulciber's intrusion into the castle were playing in her mind.

A Death Eater in the school. This would be the time to join the action. This was a sign that Voldemort's appearance into the wizarding world was coming soon. His hands reached into his pocket to his flame alchemy gloves. Nothing good was going to come out soon.

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairsteps, McGonagall stopped to such a sudden halt that Roy almost collided straight into her. "What-?"

He peered over her shoulder. The door was open, and biting his lip, Roy rushed towards the door, and opened it. Looking inside, he noticed that the ropes were untied, any other objects, such as the chair, toppled over, signs showing a struggle, but what was not visible was Mulciber himself.

"He's gone," McGonagall whispered. "We have to tell Dumbledore…"

"But how?" Roy asked nervously. "I destroyed his wand…"

Unbeknownst to the two adults, Mulciber had been there, creeping from one side of the room to another without a sound, under the cover of the Disillusionment Charm. A sly smile played to his lips. It had been a good idea of the Dark Lord to force Avery into giving Mulciber his wand – Avery had no use for it, he had failed the Dark Lord in a way Mulciber would never do.

He passed the filthy Muggle alchemist and old woman McGonagall, then exited the room swiftly but silently. As he slowly made his way up the stairs, he cursed as he remembered Dumbledore. It would be easy for him to find a way to leave the castle as he had come in, but that senile wizard Dumbledore… the Dark Lord had told him the Headmaster of Hogwarts could see through Disillusionment Charms.

He growled softly. His escape would have to be more thought out, then he sighed. The sigh was a mix of fear and anxiety. He had failed in his mission to capture Roy Mustang. The Dark Lord would most certainly not be happy.

But was there still time? To try again? He could not go back to the Dark Lord and report a failure like Avery had did. He did not want to end up like him.

It was time to retreat, for now at least, to cultivate a plan.

* * *

The next meeting of Dumbledore's Army was a blur to Ed, except that they had all been given special gold coins with a 'Protean Charm' that was 'NEWT' level (whatever the hell 'NEWT' and a 'Protean Charm' was). Though not understanding the full concept of the coins, he understood enough to know that the coins would show the next date and time of the meeting.

Something else he had trouble understanding was the hype around the sport of 'Quidditch.' Each of the four houses played against each other on flying broomsticks and different coloured balls, and the Quidditch cup was to be won at the end. A trophy at the end? It seemed strange to Ed why they would bother doing that kind of thing just to win a trophy. Hopefully, it had plenty of value to it – more value than Ed could currently figure.

The first game of sthe eason, which had the house of Harry Potter and his friends – Gryffindor – compete against Slytherin, the house where Malfoy had been. Ed sighed. He hadn't been in contact with Malfoy, and hadn't been in his mind too much ever since the failure of his first running of laps. He hadn't checked whether he'd been keeping up with his running schedule.

In fact, Ed would have probably started his own running schedule. It had been a long time since he had done proper exercise, and it had annoyed him upon figuring out there was no form of physical education in the school (especially when they ate three hearty feasts a day), and the only sports was basically a group of magic people flying on damned sticks trying to kick colourful balls into hoops.

The Slytherin house had been more hostile and antagonistic to Gryffindor, especially Potter, and the rivalry must have had some backstory behind it, a _long_ backstory, Ed thought as he saw Pansy Parkinson of that very same snake house came retorting at Potter and insulting Weasley.

On the day of the match, Malfoy had approached him. Ed wanted to leave, because he expected Malfoy to open his big damn mouth and ask about alchemy and talk about his running, but instead, just took something out of his robe pocket, then flicked it towards Ed, smirking as he walked away. Ed caught it and peered at the crown shape of it and the fancy cursive inscription that Ed took a few moments to interpret it: _Weasley is our King._

 _Whatever the fuck that means,_ Ed thought as he put the badge in his pocket.

During the match between Gryffindor and Slytherin, it seemed like the whole school had arrived to watch the match – even the teachers, even _McGonagall_ seemed anxious for Gryffindor's win, to Ed's surprise. As the match began and the balls of different colour variations came flying out, Ed began to yawn and close his eyes.

His eyes snapped open to the singing coming from the other side of the pitch – Slytherin. _Wait._ Singing?! He looked up and saw Slytherin singing at the tops of their voices:

"Weasley cannot save a thing, he cannot block a single ring, that's why Slytherins all sing, Weasley is our king."

"Weasley was born in a bin, he always lets the Quaffle in, Weasley will make sure we win, Weasley is our King."

"Weasley is our King, Weasley is our King, he always lets the Quaffle in, Weasley is our King."

The song was so annoying that it played again and again like a loop in Ed's head. Now he understood why Malfoy had given him the badge, the badge Ed noticed that every Slytherin student was wearing.

How cowardly and stupid, Ed thought, to have a whole group prey on just one person.

"You heard it too, didn't you?" Ed heard a small, sad voice behind him. He saw Hermione take the place next to him, and bit her lip. "They're just trying to discredit and downgrade Ron! This isn't good, I hope they get in plenty of trouble for it!" The song grew louder in volume as it got repeated, but stopped instantly as soon as cheering from the Gryffindor's side. Harry had granted a victory for his team. The match was over.

Hermione and Ed waited for the two outside the stands, but the Gryffindor nor the Slytherin team had emerged. However, there seemed to be a large commotion in there, as there were yells from the centre of the field and the bellowing of the crowd still up in the stands. Hermione pursed her lips together, and looked at Ed. "Nothing bad could have happened, right?"

It turned out that it was bad. Bad for the Gryffindor students, especially Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team, at least.

"What do you mean, _banned?!"_ Hermione burst out at Harry and Ron as Harry told her the truth.

"Yup," Harry nodded. "Lifetime ban. Fred and George have got one too."

Ron widened his eyes. "No… but that's about almost half of the team gone…" he sighed, then spoke again, in what Ed noticed was a bitter tone, "It's all my fault. I think I will resign. I never was any good at Quidditch anyway."

"No, that's not true!" Hermione said. "It's just that you were provoked by that song."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Anyone could have been wound up by the song."

Then they both turned to Ed, to his surprise, staying quiet the whole conversation. "What?" he asked. Being frank to himself, Ed was sure that the inside of him could not care any less about the fate of Harry's Quidditch ban. He was not paid to look after his sporting – or any out-of-school activities. But then he noticed that Harry and Hermione were silently begging him to say something that would try to cheer him up, so he said, "You did good for beginner. It was not your fault. You can do better next time…"

"Thanks for trying to cheer me up," said Ron spitefully, "but I think you three are all failing."

"Well, you know what'd cheer you up?" Hermione said, smiling. "Hagrid's back."

Harry stood up suddenly. "What?"

"I mean what I say," Hermione replied. "Hagrid's back."

Ed widened his eyes. "Hagrid… he is supposed to be real Care of Magical Creatures, is he not?"

"Yup," Ron said, and Ed noticed just that announcement about the teacher had lightened his mood. "And he's back."

"I'll go get the Cloak," Harry said, and Ed, realising that this would be the perfect time to leave them, stood and headed for the boys' dormitory, but was stopped by an owl, flapping its wings excitedly, its talons almost gouging Ed's eye out.

 _Fullmetal,_

 _Umbridge's office immediately._

 _I don't know what this is about._

 _Signed,  
_ Colonel Roy Mustang

Absentmindedly crumpling the paper in his fist, Ed sighed. He went to leave, the opposite direction of the one the trio were heading towards, then Hermione asked, "Don't you want to come, Edward? You get to meet Hagrid – he's a very good teacher."

Ed shook his head. "No thank you," he said, "I have something to attend to."

"What, going on an alchemy book hunting expedition in the library?" Ron chuckled. "Have fun!"

Ed nodded and headed towards Umbridge's office.

* * *

It had taken a while for Fullmetal to reach the office of Umbridge. When he had finally arrived, he rushed to his seat next to Roy's in front of Umbridge's desk, and Roy had noticed him attempting to avoid the professor of Defence Against the Dark Art's gaze, or eye contact. The little alchemist had taken his seat, took one glance at the room and shuddered. Roy could relate. The room's pink explosions made him gag.

"You do know why I've called you here, haven't you?" Umbridge asked sweetly. The tone of voice Roy had to bear with during Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons, he hated it. No, he _loathed_ it. All he had to do was sit in the shadows and help her mark work. Not a very interesting thing to do, Roy kept on thinking.

In fact, he had been so close to setting Umbridge's work and the students' essays on fire with his flame alchemy gloves once.

It must be very important to bring sh – I mean, Fullmetal here," Roy said, and he saw Fullmetal's fiery gaze on him.

Umbridge did not seem to hear him, instead opening several pink drawers covered in lace under her desk. "Hmm… yes, yes," she muttered, Roy not being able to catch all the English words spoken in a fast, feverish way. "Aha," she whispered under her breath so soft that Roy barely heard it, taking out a manila file folder that was salmon pink with post-it notes decorated with kittens on the outlines.

"As you know, something… well, _dangerous_ to the magical society has returned."

Roy looked up and exchanged confused looks with Fullmetal. Did they finally acknowledge Voldemort's return? _Does Umbridge know about Mulciber and his intrusion into Hogwarts?_ he thought, then he shook his head. Dolores Umbridge did not seem the type of person who would believe something so "ludicrous", according to the Ministry, especially when she was a high-ranking official in that said Ministry that denied any allegations of the Dark Lord's return.

"What is it?" Fullmetal almost stood immediately. "Who has returned?"

Umbridge gestured to the file folder sitting on the desk, so Roy took it and opened it. Yes, he was right. Umbridge wasn't the type of person to believe that Voldemort had returned (at least, she didn't believe it for the sake of the Ministry), and Voldemort (whatever he looked like) was not the subject of the profile clipped inside.

The picture showed a scruff man with an overly large and bushy beard, smiling broadly at the camera. _Rubeus Hagrid,_ that was his name, and Roy was sure he had once read his name in the wizards' newspapers, a newspaper that was dubbed the 'prophet' for reasons Roy failed to comprehend. His eyes quickly skimmed through the briefing and halted to the tiny note in the end written in pink ink, scrawled in fairly neat cursive handwriting: _Half-giant. Dangerous. Ministry notified._ And, crossed out, with a line straight through it, was the word: _Missing._

"What does this have to do with us?" Roy asked.

"As you know, despite being honorary guests of Hogwarts and the magical world, you were brought here by the _Ministry,"_ the words were slick and fresh off the old hag's tongue. "Which means you answer to us-"

"We do not," cut in Edward, to Umbridge's surprise. "We are soldiers of Amestris. We answer to Amestris and Amestris alone." Which was partly true, except for the last part, where they had secretly been following the orders of Albus Dumbledore and keeping an eye on Harry Potter. Roy wanted to bury his face in his hands – surely that would offend Umbridge to an extent, right? Instead, Umbridge smiled even more widely, though her eyes spoke a different expression. An expression saying _You mess with me, but I have power behind me. You mess with me and it will not go good for you._

But Roy knew that even though she had the backs of the whole Ministry behind her, Roy and Fullmetal had power on their backs as well. The Flame Alchemist was definitely sure in his belief that the power of the Amestrian military trumped any of the power the Ministry of Magic had. But he kept silent on that subject.

She coughed her throat and said, "Yes, of course you answer to Amestris, but for the duration of your stay at Hogwarts, you are also answering to the Ministry. Now for the topic of-" her voice now changed to a bitter tone, as if she had swallowed a sour raw lemon, "- Rubeus Hagrid."

Umbridge took back the briefing and continued, "As you saw in the briefing, he is a half-giant. And giants are dangerous. Did you know they participated in the First Wizarding War, but they were on He Who Must Not Be Named's side? So many people died…"

 _War?_ Roy thought. _So they do know a little of battle, I suppose…_

"So what you are saying is that Rubeus Hagrid is dangerous?" asked Fullmetal. "Because he is half-giant?"

"Yes-"

"Was he on the side of Voldemort during your Wizard War?" Edward interrupted sharply.

"Well, no-"

"Then what is need to go and do anything bad to him?" Fullmetal said. "Unless he committed a crime or did anything very wrong we do not have to do anything."

Umbridge, who had been surprised at Edward's interruptions, with occasional flickers of shock and anger passing through her face, smiled slyly at Fullmetal's last statement. "It is not just Hagrid who is dangerous, but also the creatures he has been keeping."

"Creatures?"

"Care of Magical Creatures. The animals he are currently teaching and caring for are way beyond what young adolescents – even some fully-fledged wizards – are handling. You should know that two years ago, a Hippogriff – which is a dangerous and untameable animal according to Clause 354 of 'Dangerous Magical Animals in the Wizarding World' from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being and Spirit Divisions – attacked a young third-year boy and caused a serious injury. It caused quite a commotion, really."

The words and magical terms spun around in Roy's head so much he wanted to sleep or rest before his head exploded – but the last bit had interested him. Despite not knowing what a Hippogriff was, it must have been very dangerous to have attacked someone with a serious injury."

"Was that not Malfoy?" Fullmetal said, "Harry Potter said it was because he was too… well, he did not listen to Hagrid's instructions."

Roy was a tad impressed by the shorty's determination to justify everything Umbridge had said, but she waved him away, saying, "I understand you are worrying, but that was not what happened. Draco Malfoy had a proper eyewitness to his injury, and his father is there to agree. Besides," she lowered her voice, "would you trust the fibs Harry Potter has been telling throughout the fifth year? Telling everyone He Who Must Not Be Named is back…" she chuckled a little.

Fullmetal did not stand or protest to her rant on Harry Potter, instead staring at the floor with a blank expression. Or did he have an expression? Roy figured it was hard to see through those long golden bangs.

There was silence, so painful that Roy decided to speak up. "So, Dolores?" he wanted to gag in disgust. It was the first time Roy had addressed the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher by her first name – it was almost as if tasting something exotic in the hope it would taste fine, even delicious – but finding that it was anything otherwise. "What matter do you have with us and Rubeus Hagrid?" He changed his voice to a dark tone. "I think it's nothing good."

Umbridge sighed. "It is in the favour of Hogwarts and the Ministry to remove him from Hogwarts. It's for the good of the magical world that half-breeds must be purged from normal society."

He had got this loud and clear, but he did not like the way it was worded. _The magical world really is fucked up,_ Roy thought bitterly as Umbridge continued, "Of course, there is the problem of Dumbledore… but no problem with that, with my power as High Inquisitor and Undersecretary to the Ministry, change will come to Hogwarts and he will be removed…

"You understand what I mean, correct?" Fullmetal and Flame nodded gravely. "Besides," Umbridge stood. "I think it will be time to pay a visit to Rubeus Hagrid's humble home. It would be good to introduce each other, don't you think? I think it would be nice."

As they departed the pink lacy office and made the journey to Hagrid's home, Roy stalled a little and walked a little slower and slower behind Umbridge so she would not be able to hear what they were going to say next.

" _We have to do something,"_ Fullmetal hissed in Amestrian, _"I refuse to do anything for a woman like her."_

" _Me neither,"_ Roy sighed. _"We need to think of a plan."_

Fullmetal bit his lip in anger. _"Being honest, I don't really mind or care too much about this Hagrid character. But I'm sure that this is stupid. It's an abuse of power. And to think that we work for her or something…"_

Roy sighed. Her plan to remove Hagrid and her continual abuse of power was something worthy enough of reporting back to Lieutenant Hawkeye and the Fuhrer himself, but he had a large feeling that all letters entering and exiting Hogwarts were under surveillance. Would it pass through it he wrote in Amestrian? No, that would be too obvious. It would still be useful to write down everything that had happened in Umbridge's office, though.

It looks like Amestris would wait a while for Roy's next report.

He cursed as they walked outside. He should have brought a jacket or a thicker coat. It was cold, their feet made crunching noises through the snow, and the wind howled an icy breeze. Roy looked up, and noticed Umbridge had come to a halt. Roy caught up to her; a small smile was beginning to play on her lips.

"Footprints," she said, pointing into the snow, and there they were; three pairs of footprints leading to something that looked like a hut glowing with light in the distance; he could not see due to the snow. Puffs of smoke escaped from the chimney in clouds and coils and quickly vanished upon reaching the air. "They look small enough to be footprints of students, too…"

Roy glanced at Fullmetal, who mouthed, _I think I know who it is._

Roy shivered, and he was not sure if it was due to the cold or something else, as they reached the door of the hut with Umbridge knocking twice. _Yes,_ he mouthed back. _I think I do too._

A small scuffle could be heard inside the hut, but Roy wasn't sure if Umbridge had noticed or even cared. The door opened with a _creak,_ and Roy had realised he had underestimated his appearance.

His height reached up to just above the half-giant's waist. Umbridge had narrowly reached his navel. Roy saw Fullmetal bite his lip in a mixture of shock, embarrassment and anger. The Flame Alchemist suppressed a chuckle at this.

"Oh, 'ello," Rubeus Hagrid said, and in his tone Roy could notice an attempt to speak in a cheery, friendly way. "Yeh all are…"

"So, _you_ are Hagrid, yes?" Umbridge spoke, pretending not to have heard Hagrid, or even worse, pretended that Hagrid had never spoken at all.

"Well, yeh… Hey!" he said in annoyance as Umbridge pushed past him, and Roy heard the words "Get away, beast", leaving Roy and Fullmetal outside.

"Er… want to get in?" he asked weakly, moving his large self so that there was enough space for the two alchemists to enter. The two nodded and entered, Roy quipping a "thank you" as he passed, but he was not sure if he had heard, as Hagrid had already turned to Umbridge asking who the "ruddy hell" she was.

"My name is Dolores Umbridge," she drawled.

"An' who are they…?" Hagrid pointed at Roy and Fullmetal.

"This is-" Umbridge began, but Roy stopped her. Better for them to introduce themselves than for Umbridge to start spouting random bullshit about them. "I'm Roy Mustang," he said, and gesturing to Fullmetal, "this is my subordinate, Edward Elric."

"Subordinate? What the ruddy 'ell d'yeh mean by subordinate?"

"Uh, Edward and myself are members of the Amestrian military," Roy felt his heart thumping at a great rate with nervousness. He felt as if things would turn bad quick – from either Umbridge or Hagrid – if he had spoken something that seemed wrong to either of them. "We're honorary guests at Hogwarts from Amestris. It is the Ministry's request for us to be here."

"Well, nice to meet yeh, then," Hagrid nodded, and he clasped Roy's hands with his large own. Then Roy realised that he had been carrying a slab of meat and had been pressing it against his face. _Probably a bruise,_ Roy thought. _Did he get injured?_ He made a note to alert Dumbledore – but he was sure that the Headmaster would have found out or know anyway. Hagrid, on the other hand, turned to Umbridge. "Yeh're part of the Ministry, am I right?"

Umbridge, who had been strangely pacing around the cabin in a fast, feverish way, responded by correcting herself as not the Undersecretary but the Hogwarts High Inquisitor and Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, with the extra quip with Roy being her (sadly) "assistant." _If you stood behind her during every lesson and marked half of the essays would be what you called an assistant…_ then Roy mentally face-palmed himself. _That's what an assistant does…_

Roy peered around the cabin, he noticed smashed mugs on the floor, which Umbridge questioned him about. "Ah, tha's Fang, feisty lil' beast… little shit…" Hagrid grumbled.

"You do not say such words in front of an official," Umbridge said coldly. "Formal speech, if you please." She coughed that annoying _hem, hem_ cough once again. "Why are there footsteps leading to your door?"

"Yeh sure they're not yers?"

"Not ours," Umbridge snapped irritably. "We saw them as we came. And," she added as Hagrid opened his mouth, "there were no footsteps leading back. So that means, someone is still here."

Roy looked around. There was no-one, at least no-one visible. Whoever else in this cabin, Roy mused, they were extremely good at hiding from the enemy.

"I heard voices."

Roy exchanged looks with Fullmetal, who mouthed, _It's Potter. Potter and his friends._

"Talkin' ter Fang, yeh know… bin very worried an' all that… since I came back-" Hagrid glanced around again and again worriedly. Then Umbridge walked past Hagrid, and to Roy's surprise, opened cupboards, looked under the bed, behind curtains, even peering into the cauldrons. She didn't even close the drawers or put everything back to it was before. She sighed.

"Talking of your return," Umbridge interrupted sharply. "Where is it that you have been during your absence? No colleague has been able to inform me, the students have been _very_ disadvantaged, especially the fifth-years. Another teacher had to substitute for the duration of your leave."

"Well – er… me health, that's it, me health," Hagrid just avoided to stammer, and Roy felt a surge of sympathy for him. Hagrid was the person Umbridge wanted fired from the school. He was sure that Umbridge would be sure to give him hell until he left. "Needed fresh air."

"Fresh air? I've heard the mountains are full of fresh air and freedom, I hear that they are very good at this time of year."

"Mountains?! No way!" Hagrid said, putting his hands up as if he was in surrender, but his words lacked conviction. "I wen' south, south o' that, very south, for a little holiday-"

Umbridge continued to shoot him questions, and Hagrid would respond or justify with very unconvincing lies. Roy and Fullmetal, who had taken their seats, simply watched at Hagrid's desperation. Fullmetal, who had seemed tired of the whole thing, had given up watching them and listening onto the whole conversation, was beginning to do small transmutations of a wooden spoon into a fork and vice versa.

"Unfortunately," Umbridge finally said, and Roy felt this was going to be her last statement, "as High Inquisitor it is my unfortunate responsibility for me to be inspecting teachers. The Ministry wishes for – ah – _unsatisfactory_ teachers to be pruned out of the school system. All for the sakes of brighter futures for magical children, of course."

"Ah, ok, ok," Hagrid said worriedly. "Ah, yes, o' course…"

Umbridge looked at Roy and Fullmetal with a simple "We will leave now," and the two alchemists gravely stood and shook hands with a very nervous Hagrid, and with a small "good night" from Roy, they left. But as Roy closed the door, he stopped and paused a little behind Umbridge's back and pressed his ear to the door:

"Blimey… inspectin' people, she is?"

"Hagrid, you should be careful, Trelawney's on probation already…."

Roy sighed then turned away, only to realise Umbridge was already far ahead and Fullmetal, frowning, was a little closer, waiting for him. So there _were_ people inside the cabin, something that Roy had suspected from the beginning.

And the Trelawney incident? It was something that was slowly beginning to officially confirm that hag's abuse of power. Oh, how he would love to write that down on his report, then the military would fire her, the look on her face when that would happen…

Roy shook his head. No, that would not happen. Umbridge had enough power to be watching anything that would enter and exit the castle. It would not be convenient for Lieutenant Hawkeye, the rest of his unit and especially the Fuhrer to be opening up a manila folder only to find a neatly scrawled _Inspected and Edited by Hogwarts' High Inquisitor_ only to find shit saying that he loved the education system and the Inquisitor (and one drawing Roy had done half-conscious of him overthrowing the Fuhrer – treason, that was what it would be).

When they had reached the castle, Roy, Ed and Umbridge all planned to go separate ways, but before they did, Umbridge grabbed them by the arms and locked their eyes with hers, saying, "You know your mission. Make sure Hagrid is gone from this school by the end of the school year."

They nodded, and Roy headed towards his office in distaste, biting his tongue so hard he could feel and taste the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. First the incident with one of Voldemort's Death Eaters asking him to betray and kill Dumbledore, then Umbridge asking them to get rid of a teacher simply because of his background. Then there was Dumbledore in the beginning, taking advantage of them being here at Hogwarts to bodyguard a young boy from Voldemort.

Alchemists were not servants. They served the Amestrian military, and the Amestrian military alone.

Damn those wizards, trying to take advantage and use them.

* * *

Hermione was sure they had seen them. She herself witnessed Umbridge enter Hagrid's hut and threaten him. It had surprised her when the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor had dropped several obvious hints that she knew of Hagrid's whereabouts in his absence. She bit her lip. This was unfair.

But what had surprised her even more was that Edward and Mr. Mustang had arrived alongside her, as well. To her – and Ron and Harry's – relief, they had not helped Umbridge at all, not even speaking except for the one time Mustang introduced him and Edward to Hagrid. But what was the point of them being there, however? It made her suspicious, especially when it pointed to them working with Umbridge…

She wasn't overthinking herself, wasn't she?

"Why," Ron said as they trudged up back to Gryffindor Tower, "was Elric and Mustang there with Umbridge?!" Hermione and Harry glared at him and his loud tone, and lowering his tone, the redhead Weasley continued, "I thought they were supposed to be on _our_ side!"

"They are," Hermione said nervously. "Well, at least I think they are. The Ministry asked them to be here, and Harry, you said Mustang told you that while the Ministry asked them to be honorary guests, they would also obey Dumbledore and… do the job!"

Harry was silent. He hesitated. "But just because Dumbledore asked them to come here and do… well, the _job,_ doesn't mean that the Ministry could give them more orders to infiltrate us and the Order as well."

Ron looked at Harry, horrified. "They're working with Umbridge, aren't they?"

"We saw them with Umbridge, didn't we?" Harry said. "We can't rule that out! They're probably trying to act inconspicuous so we wouldn't suspect them…"

"You shouldn't jump to conclusions, Harry!" Hermione berated him. "They could have a proper reason!" She sighed. "Would Dumbledore be daft enough to send someone who would be able to work against you?"

"Dumbledore isn't right in everything, you know," Harry said coldly.

"I never said that he was! Stop jumping to conclusions!" It partially annoyed Hermione, really, to see her friend suspect yet another one out of mere speculation. "But Dumbledore is smart enough to know that they wouldn't betray him! He could even be monitoring them now, for goodness' sake!"

Silence, then Ron coughed. "You know, we can't rule out the fact that the job isn't the main reason they are here. Elric said so himself."

Harry nodded. "Yes, Hermione! The Ministry is asking them to be guests here, why can't they ask them anything else? They probably answer to the Ministry for the duration of this year! Umbridge is probably asking them to get rid of Hagrid with her, and they're just doing her dirty work! You just don't want to admit that the _new guests_ and your _new friends_ are working against us! Why won't you just get – to – the – point!" he yelled. Then his voice lowered its volume to a bitter whisper. "Why don't you just find new friends, then? Leave us and be best friends with them?"

Hermione stepped back, astounded. She did not expect Harry to go this far. After the incident of his arrival in Grimmauld Place, Hermione was determined to not make Harry angry. She blinked back tears from her eyes, and she was thankful for Ron to step in, notice them and say to Harry, "Mate, you're going too far, you're just overthinking things-"

"Whose side are you on?" Harry asked angrily.

"I suspect them as much as you do, and as much as I disagree with Hermione, you shouldn't be so harsh on her! She's just asking you to not overthink stuff-"

"I'm not overthinking! I just want to get down to the bottom of this!" Harry said, ruffling his hand through his hair in frustration. "That's it. I want to know everything. I don't want to be kept in the dark. I want to know the truth of Elric and Mustang, and if they're working with us or against us, so we can tell Dumbledore and send them straight back to Amestris." Harry sighed, then picked up speed as he headed towards the common room.

Ron and Hermione stared at each other. "I…"

"Don't worry, 'Mione," Ron reassured her. "He's just bent up with this. You-Know-Who is back but no-one is believing him, almost all the wizarding community thinks he's a nutcase, plus this Elric business, as well as OWLs and the DA…" He sighed. "It's enough to drive anyone mad. We'll just leave him alone today and I'm sure he'll be fine tomorrow."

"I hope so," Hermione said, and Ron nodded, waving at her before sprinting away to join Harry. This was a bad day. Hagrid was in the risk of expulsion, the suspicion of Elric and Mustang's true loyalties hung uneasily, and worse, she had angered her friend.

* * *

Potter was staring at him.

He had been giving Ed strange looks throughout the whole of last night from his entrance into the dormitories, and then gave him an annoyed, maybe even angry glance at Ed this morning. Whatever.

Hermione had taken to sitting close to him now. At breakfast, for whatever reason, she took a strange glance at her friends, Potter and Weasley, sighed, then moved towards Ed, who had been given the Daily Prophet by a passing owl. It was not really a use for him, but it was good enough for him to transmute the newspaper into sheets of parchment.

"Good morning," Hermione said to Ed, almost stiffly, head down.

"Uh, hello," Ed replied. He wondered why Hermione wasn't with her friends. He wanted to ask, but he knew it would be rude to say so. Or maybe she just wanted to befriend him. Ed was used to sitting alone now. He didn't really need any friends; Harry Potter and his trio, as well as the Gryffindors were fairly nice to him, but not enough to actually call them 'friends.' _I'm sure I'll be able to survive the whole school year like this…_ Then Hermione looked up to take some sausages onto her plate and Ed noticed something off about her.

"Hermione, your eyes are red."

She blinked twice in surprise, then resumed eating. "It'll be fine…"

"Did you not sleep properly?" Ed queried. "Or did you rub them too much?"

"No, it's fine, it'll be back to normal in no time," Hermione said wearily. "Oh, I didn't know there was scrambled eggs…"

Ed looked around, and noticed Rubeus Hagrid from the night before walking across the Gryffindor table. He gave a small wave to Hermione next to him and was being pat on the large back of his by the Weasley twins and that dreadlocked boy Lee Jordan. To Ed's right, however, he saw Patil and Brown sigh, shake their heads, and exchange looks of fear and gloom. He caught them whispering a few words: "Hagrid's back? Right?" "Whatever happened, it's not good."

By their words, Ed began to wonder whether Umbridge's mission for them to get rid of Hagrid was either out of hate or just because of his poor teaching, according to the girls' words. He knew it was meant to be the former option, but the way Gryffindors acted after breakfast upon the news of Hagrid's return, it probably meant nothing good.

Hermione walked with him and talked with him all day, albeit her asking about homework and to test her on what had been learnt after the lesson. It surprised Ed, especially when they had passed Harry and Ron, with the former exchanging a dark look with Ed and another one he couldn't interpret to Hermione.

Hermione, who had been examining the Charms homework they had just received, looked up to Ed. "Hey," she said in a trembling voice. "the new spell we learnt today… could you take a look?"

"Wouldn't you be asking Harry and Ron?" Ed said.

"Well, if you're busy, you don't have to…" Hermione said, but Ed waved her off. "I am not saying that, it is just that you've been acting strange today-"

"It's none of your business, thank you very much," Hermione snapped. Ed merely stared at her, and she sighed, saying, "Sorry… it's just been really stressful for me…"

"No, it's fine," Ed said, and they resumed walking in silence. _There must've been something that happened between them,_ he thought. He decided not to interfere.

After all, that wasn't something the Fullmetal Alchemist was paid for.

For Care of Magical Creatures, it had taken a small while for Ed to get accustomed to having Hagrid as their teacher instead of Grubbly-Plank. Ed had seen no reason for Care of Magical Creatures; the teachers had said to usually "not bother these creatures," then resuming to explain how they captured them in the first place.

 _It'd better to leave the damn things alone,_ thought Ed bitterly, and as he walked into Hagrid's class, he heard some students whisper in fear, "I'm scared, what scary creature will he bring next?", which reinforced his thoughts.

Hagrid seemed the same as last night, and as he called the roll for the class, he gave no indication or hint that he had seen him the day before, except a slight pause as he reached Ed's name. Nevertheless, the encounter that time did not seem to bother the large teacher in the slightest; he led the class a little further into the forest.

"We'll be workin' 'ere today!" Hagrid said happily. "I've been savin' this for yer fifth year, I'm particularly excited, yeh know. It's a bit darker in 'ere, yeh know, they like it 'ere, better in the dark-"

"In the dark?" Ed was surprised to see that Draco Malfoy seemed to have a fear for the dark, or – as it more likely seemed – what lurked within it. "What likes the dark?"

"Yeh'll see," Hagrid said, a smirk playing on his lips. It did not seem to comfort Malfoy, and the rest of the Gryffindor and Slytherin students for that matter. It wasn't that scary for Ed, however. He'd faced worse than a bunch of feral dangerous creatures. He had been face-to-face with God himself…

Ed shivered. Thinking of that fateful day continued to bring pain, even now.

"- they'll be gathered by the smell of blood, yeh see, I've got some fresh wounds meself, and the meat too…" that and a large shrieking cry brought Ed out of his thoughts.

There was silence, then the quiet rustling of leaves. Suddenly, Ed saw a black, winged horse. It was shockingly thin, with the skeleton being visible, and it had a dragonish face. Ed widened his eyes. He had seen them before… right?

 _Hogwarts castle._

 _That horse that pulled the carriages._

 _The horse Ron wasn't able to see?... Shit._

* * *

 _Thank you for reading Chapter 13. I apologise greatly for the long wait, I have had to deal with family matters and exams. Chapter 14 will be coming around two weeks, hopefully._


	14. Chapter 14

"What are we meant to be looking for, exactly?" Malfoy raised his hand, and there was a murmur of agreement among the whole class.

Ron was close to Ed, he heard the redhead whisper to Harry, "Can't they call again?"

"Can't you see it?" Harry whispered back. "It's there-"

"No, I can't see it!"

Ed felt a soft nudge on his ribs. "I can't see them either," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Can you see it?"

"Yes. But is that magic?" Ed asked. "I can see horses and you cannot?"

"Alright, another one is here!" Hagrid said happily, and Ed saw another horse gallop into the class. "Now, put yer hands up if yeh can see them."

There was a small show of hands. As Ed raised his own, he looked around – Neville Longbottom had his hand up, Harry did too, which didn't surprise him.

"Ah, Neville, you can see it? And I knew Harry, you'd be able to see them… oh, and Edward Elric the transfer student too?" Now all eyes were upon him. "Actually, am I allowed to call yeh Ed? You can see them, can't yeh, Ed?"

Ed nodded. To his side, in the corner of his eye, he could notice Harry stare at him, gaping. Possibly wondering on how he could see them. That was something Ed was wondering too. He looked at them again, galloping around as Hagrid threw at them a piece of red meat. Their eyes were tiny round circles, just completely white and expressionless.

It reminded him of something…

 _No. That thing._

That thing, back on _that_ fateful day, they had the same eyes. That thing and the Thestral shared the same eyes. They were both shockingly thin and skeletal, they both reminded him of his mistake -

 _They had failed. Al was gone. They had paid the ultimate price of playing God -_

"Ed? Hagrid's talking to you," Hermione said gently, snapping Ed out of his thoughts, and Hagrid said, "Hey, Ed? You jus' turned white just now. Pale as a ghost. You okay?"

Now the whole class was staring at him. Crowds of people staring at him was what Ed despised, especially now. Ed shook his head, and said, "I'm fine."

"You sure? Well, all good, all good," Hagrid nodded, then continued, "You can seem them, right? Them Thestrals." At Ed's nod, he said, "Who did you see die?"

"See – what?" Ed looked bewildered. "What do you mean – die?"

Hagrid coughed. "Oh yeh, yeh might not know… yeh see, Ed, as Hermione said earlier, the only people who can see Thestrals are those who have seen death – tha' is, those who've seen a person die." He sighed. "I was askin' who you saw die."

 _Nosy wizards. You have no right to poke in my business._ In his Hogwarts robe pocket, Ed clenched a fist. They were both related to death, wasn't that right? He saw _it_ die, _that thing,_ watching in despair as their human transmutation attempt failed, as Ed was taken through the Gate of Truth, as he lost an arm and a leg, how his brother was taken out of the living world – that day. The day where he had watched _it_ die.

"I will not answer that," Ed said, almost in a growl.

"Wha'?" Hagrid said.

"I do not want to answer that," he repeated. "I will not."

Hagrid raised an eye, then nodded. "Ah, oh no, did I awaken bad memories? That's terribly 'orrible of me – Sorry, uh, do you want anything? I'm really sorry, really."

Ed glared at Hagrid with an icy glare, and the Care of Magical Creatures teacher shuddered. "Alright, back to the lesson…"

"Hem, hem."

Ed looked up and, like the rest of the class, turned to see Umbridge give one of her annoying coughs as she advanced towards Hagrid, who lifted his hand slightly as if to wave her hello. "Hello, Hagrid," she said dully as she walked past the students, giving Ed a small glance as she approached him. "I'm sure you received notifications and information on your inspection?"

"Well, er, yeah, I-" Hagrid began, but Umbridge cut him off, drawling in a slow, loud, clear voice, as if teaching a four-year-old how to read. "You received the note I sent to your cabin earlier this morning, Hagrid? About the _inspection?"_ The word 'inspection' was said so slowly and so loudly that Ed wanted to punch her.

"Yeah, so, uh, we – we're doin' Thestrals today…"

"Hm? What did you say?" Umbridge drawled again, cupping her hand to her ear. "What did you say you were doing?"

The inspection did not go well. Umbridge continued to act as if Hagrid was some dumb troll with bogies for brains, taking favour in the opinions of the Slytherins who were pleased to talk about anything negative about Hagrid, while chuckling and giggling as they did so. Ed had to endure the whole lesson with Hermione blinking back a tear or two as she continuously called Umbridge a hag and an evil woman, and even dropping an unladylike curse once.

Umbridge stopped next to him and Hermione. Making no acknowledgement that Hermione was next to Ed, helping him take notes, she coughed _'hem, hem'_ then asked, "Mr Edward Elric?"

Ed sighed. He did not want to talk to Umbridge, especially since she had asked him and Roy to get rid of the teacher teaching this lesson. Said teacher was looking behind Umbridge cautiously and nervously. "Yes?"

"How are you finding this lesson?" she asked sweetly.

Everyone had turned to look at him. "I do not really know, Professor Umbridge," he replied expressionlessly as if he had no emotion. "This is my first lesson with Professor Hagrid, so I cannot really say whether his lessons are good or not."

Hagrid gave a small sigh behind Umbridge's back. Umbridge narrowed her eyes a little, then she coughed again and said, "Mr Elric, can you see the Thestrals?"

A voice in his head told him to lie and shake his head. Ed went against this voice and nodded. Umbridge faked a small gasp (that _bitch)_ and smiled, saying, in a very indifferent tone, expressionless similar enough to Ed's response to Umbridge's first question, "Whom did you see die?"

Ed glared at her. It was the second time he had been asked this. He did not want to answer. "No," he said.

"What do you mean, 'no', Mr Elric?" she asked, and Ed saw in her tone that she was struggling to keep up the sweet, faked motherly tone that she adopted in the hope of trying to soften up to him and the rest of the class.

"I do not want to answer," Ed said coldly. "It is a private business."

Umbridge stared at him, eyes wide in confusion, but Ed refused to say more. There was a more pronounced silence, and then, "Mr Elric, it isn't that really hard to do. Sharing something sad helps to reduce the sadness. I'm sure whoever you saw died is probably being happy where he is." Her tone infuriated him. She spoke with a straight and indifferent face, and her "advice" were simply blatant lies.

"Professor," Hermione said, raising her hand, "he doesn't have to answer that. It's a personal question-"

"Silence, Miss Granger, or I will have to put you in detention," Umbridge snapped, then turned to Ed. "Well?"

His fists shook, trembling with pure anger. Ed wanted to punch her, Ed wanted to yell at her to shut up, she didn't understand, no-one understood, they didn't know how deep it went. "Mr Elric," Umbridge said, "I wish for you to answer or else I will have to put you in detention."

"I did answer," Ed said softly. "I said I would not answer. Why is it so important anyway?" He continued, "It is not a question that would be significant to the results of the class inspection, which you should be doing right now. This would what some would call an abuse of power, forcing a student to speak about not important personal matters."

Umbridge glared at him, then coughed _'hem, hem'_ again, then stood, leaving Ed and walking around in silence until the end of the class, where she looked at Hagrid, spoke in that annoyingly long, slow drawl, telling him the results of his inspection would arrive in ten days' time.

The lesson ended, and as they exited the class, Ed saw Hermione whispering in anger.

"That _hag!"_ she whispered when they were out of earshot. "Just storming in and thinking Hagrid can be sacked like that." She shook her head. "Also asking stupid questions about who died, has she no feelings or respect…"

As they exited, they passed Harry and Ron, who locked eyes with Ed for a few seconds, Harry's face unreadable, Ron's confused. Ed sighed. Care of Magical Creatures seemed to be competing with Defence Against the Dark Arts now for Ed's least favourite subject. Then there was Hagrid to think about. It was such a stupid mission to be given. Then there was the bodyguarding mission to think about… thinking about it, Ed shook his head. He was not doing very well with that mission, wasn't he? And what would happen if Harry and the Order of the Phoenix found out that they were working for the Ministry, the enemy?

* * *

Harry re-read Alphonse Elric's letter to him again in the empty common room. It had already been a few weeks since the arrival of that letter, but Harry was determined to extract any clues or information from anything he could get his hands on.

He sighed. Nothing so far.

"Nothing," Ron sighed as he scanned the letter for what seemed like the hundredth time. "You see, mate, maybe they _are_ just here for the Ministry Hogwarts diplomacy mission and the protecting you thing. It's not that bad-"

"The Philosopher's Stone," Harry stood, his eyes lighting up, gleaming, like a scientist and his new discovery. "Didn't someone mention the Philosopher's Stone back at Grimmauld Place? The meeting… the night they came. Then afterwards, Ed had rushed into our bedroom and demanded to know more about the Stone."

"You didn't tell him anything, though," Ron said. "I remember us telling him it was destroyed and there's no other Stone. Which is the truth."

"But the point here is, _why do they want the stone?"_ asked Harry. "The Philosopher's Stone is a common subject in alchemy. And the effects it has on the user, I don't see why no-one would want it. Immortality and power? Who turns down that?

"I think they want the Stone," Harry finished darkly. "Why else would they be here? Maybe they found out that Nicolas Flamel, the maker of the Stone could have information on it? After all, Flamel is still known outside of the wizarding world."

"We don't have any proof besides that little conversation we had with Elric, though," Ron shook his head.

"There's a lot of questions we need to answer, Ron! Didn't you see them with Umbridge threatening Hagrid and ready to remove him from Hogwarts? They're working with her! Which means that the Order's made a mistake in hiring them; it probably won't be a matter of time before they betray us!"

Then Mustang's voice rung in his head, the day after he had received his first detention of the year, his first detention from Defence Against the Dark Arts, where he had pulled Harry over to the side before entering McGonagall's office…

" _So for the duration of this mission, our loyalty belongs to your Order. Do not think otherwise."_

But could they trust Mustang? Now that the Ministry had given him a new mission, a mission from an authority that probably surpassed the authority of the Order of the Phoenix? And Elric, what about him? It seemed strange, sending a boy to a dangerous mission in a foreign land to protect a boy his age and perfectly capable of protecting himself. Why was Elric in the military, anyway? He was Harry's age; that would make him no older than fifteen. Why not send two fully-grown alchemists at least to act as teachers? And why did he say that bodyguarding was not his full reason at coming?

"That Elric, he's strange," said Harry aloud after what seemed like a long time. "He's in the military at the age of fifteen, isn't the military all about fighting and keeping law in a country? What'd he be in the army at such a young age?"

"Well, he could be what they call a prodigy," Ron said, thoughtfully tapping the bridge of his nose. "People like really smart kids. Elric is maybe no different."

"But why the military? Why would Elric want to be part of the military?"

The discussion they entered into led to nothing; the questions that were asked and the answers the questions were responded to led to an endless circle that led to nothing more. A small voice nagged in Harry's head, _If only Hermione were here she would help. In fact she would have found out more than you two ever did. After all, for example she did find out the truth about the Chamber of Secrets monster back in your second year._

 _Hermione's not here, though, isn't she?_ Harry thought back viciously. _She'd say nothing and tell us we're overthinking things again. She's hanging out with her new buddy Elric. It's not like she'll betray her precious little alchemist friend –_

"Harry?" Ron's voice took him back to earth. "If we need more information, the only choice we have is talk to Elric."

"It's not like he will tell us," Harry shot back.

"You never know," said Ron. "I mean, we could ask him stuff without letting him know we suspect him? Or maybe he could accidentally slip up and tell us some clues."

"And there's Hermione too," Harry said, burying his face in his hands. "How are we going to be able to ask Elric questions when she's there, too? She knows what we're up to-"

 _Tap, tap._

"What's that?" Ron asked, as he stood and searched the side of the room for the source of the sound. "Hey – it's from the window – outside-"

Ron pointed, and Harry walked over to join him. They both looked outside of the window and stared. A light-brown coloured tawny owl, making indignant hoots as they stared. Instead of being tied to its leg, the mail – which seemed to be a lot – was tied tightly in a green ribbon on his back.

"I'm not sure if I've seen that owl before," Ron said.

It _was_ strikingly familiar. Harry opened the window, and stared. Then it hit him. "Ron," Harry said slowly, "this is Elric's owl."

"Elric's owl? What?" the owl flew in and moved its talons toward Harry in a threatening way, then flew on the couch, making soft hoots, the same Hedwig would do when she was hungry. Sighing, Harry reached into his pocket, and handed the owl some treats, which lightened its mood. Untying the ribbon on the owl's back, there were three pieces of mail – one was plain, a small envelope, stained with drops of black liquid – oil? – addressed in a language Harry couldn't understand, a more thicker one addressed in the same language, but in a different language – then the third was a large manila folder, thick and full, inside a large white envelope the same size as the folder, with a white dragon emblazoned on a green background. They were all addressed in the same foreign language, but the _Hogwarts School_ was the same. The name, as well, was one they could read –

"This is Elric's mail," said Harry. "Definitely Elric's." Then an idea struck him. "These could be the perfect clue."

"To what?"

"Finding out the truth of Elric!" Harry said. He took the folder with the envelope with the white dragon – probably the sign of Amestris or the military – and said, "This could be classified information about the mission! All we need is a Translation Charm."

"A Translation Charm? Didn't you hear back at Grimmauld Place, they're extremely hard to do, with wand order and the pronunciation one hundred percent right, they also don't work for a long time, a few hours I think? But it depends on how well the spell was cast," Ron sighed.

"We translate all the mail with the Charm, copy all of the translation down, then keep the original mail hostage," Harry said. "If Elric wants them back, we can swap them for further information. And when he does, we have extra information, he gets the mail but we have the translation. If he doesn't, doesn't matter, we still have a lot of information."

"You do know we _don't know_ how to _do_ a Translation Charm," said Ron. "It's one of those advanced spells. We'll have to look everywhere in the library and practise-"

"It's worth it if you want to know the truth," said Harry. "We have a whole clue and bargaining chip here."

His heart pounded faster than normal; a whole pile of information was in front of them, about the mission, about protecting Harry, about Amestris, and a lot that could probably be about Elric himself. Maybe something about the Order or Voldemort, too.

"Where do we hide it, though?" Ron asked nervously. "I mean, Elric's in the same dormitory as us too, we need a good place making sure he doesn't find it by accident or anything. We also have to be careful if he finds out we're learning how to do Translations Charms. It sounds suspicious."

"I'll place the mail in my trunk for now," Harry said, "and I'll find a place to keep them safer later."

"One more thing," Ron said, "I mean, mate, isn't it a little… I don't know… rude to go through Elric's mail?"

"What?"

"What if it's just personal mail asking him to be safe or something? Or just some work Elric needs to do from the military? I mean, the chance it's anything too bad is not that high."

"But what if it is?" Harry said. "Didn't you hear them, bodyguarding isn't the real reason Elric's here! What if the real reason is that they're working with the Ministry – even _Voldemort?!"_

"That's going too far, mate," Ron winced. He sighed. "Alright, I'll help you get this shit done, even if I'm sure he's not doing anything bad. But first… we need to learn how to do Translation Charms."

* * *

Hermione seemed to be waiting for Ron after Charms class. When he and Harry left the classroom, a few moments after the exit of Hermione herself and Elric, but when they left the classroom Hermione was standing beside the door, gesturing for him to come. Making a quick show of saying he had left one of his parchment pieces back in the classroom, Harry nodded and went ahead after asking if he wanted him to wait. When he was gone Ron walked over to her.

"Where's Elric?" Ron said almost immediately. He decided to tell Hermione about Harry's new plan from the day before, but not while Elric was near, listening. Hermione shook her head and said, "Oh no, he's not with me, he went ahead to the library." She sighed. "How's Harry? Is he still going on with this 'Elric is a bad guy' theory?"

"Well… Hermione…" Ron quickly explained the story of Elric's mail from yesterday, the plan to learn a Translation Charm to decipher anything and find out the truth about the Amestrian alchemist and their search for information. She gasped and clapped a hand to her mouth, after a few moments then she whispered, "You can't do that! What if Ed finds out? He'll _kill_ you both…"

Ron shrugged. "That's been dealt with… I hope. Harry said he knows where to hide them but I don't know…" He stared at Hermione. "You're not going to tell him, right? Elric, I mean. And don't tell Harry I told you this too…"

"Don't worry, I won't, for both cases. But Ed will really get mad at you both! Mail is private! And Translation Charms are extremely hard, I mean they don't last very long either…"

Ron sighed. "We should tell someone about this, someone from the Order. I think if we don't stop this earlier, Harry's going to become obsessed." He tapped his chin thoughtfully, laying out the options in his mind. "Someone from the Order – Sirius?"

Hermione shook her head. "He's most likely to tell Harry or warn him in a way that he'll find out we told him."

"Dumbledore?"

"Would it be worth bothering him about, though…?" Hermione asked. "I mean, he was the one who got them both here in the first place."

"Exactly, so he can tell Harry to shut up!" Ron said, almost bellowing. "This is getting really annoying, Harry and all thinking big about Elric when he probably doesn't even care about the Order or You-Know-Who, just wanting to get the mission over and done with!"

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, then the Charms classroom door opened, with scrolls magically hovering in the air, flying out of the room with a _whoosh,_ as if partaking in a race, followed by Professor Flitwick, who noticed them and squeaked at them that there was no point just standing there and talking when they could do that at the Great Hall during break.

As they rushed towards the Great Hall in silence, Hermione looked at Ron and sighed.

"What?"

"If you're going to learn the Translation Charm… I should be with you."

Ron blinked twice. "What? I mean... you _know_ the Translation Charm already, you don't need to join us..."

Hermione blushed. _"Well..."_

"What?"

"I got..." Hermione turned even redder. "I got McGonagall to do it."

Ron looked at her, bewildered. "No way." Hermione, the teachers' favourite student, tell a little fib to one of her favourite teachers? It almost made Ron want to laugh.

"Well... I said Elric had given me a book to read that I had asked for. Thing was, it was in Amestrian, I told her, then she did the Charm on what happened to be a blank thick leatherbound Muggle book instead. You two only assumed I had done it myself."

Ron smirked. "So you-" his smile quickly faded and his words quickly shut down as an elbow hit his ribs.

"So I _want_ to learn how to do it. I heard it's NEWT level, maybe I could impress the OWL instructors during the practical. Highly unlikely but..." Hermione sighed. "Anyways, back to the Translation Charm and Ed's letters. Harry will have to face the consequence of his actions, Ron. When Ed finds out, his anger isn't going to make him give the letters back. Remember, he could always report to Dumbledore or the Order to Harry looking through his private mail."

"So what you're saying is… you want to see Harry get screwed."

"You're putting it in the Ron – I mean, _wrong_ way, Ron…"

"And I still can't believe you told a _little white lie_ to a teacher..."

* * *

The next few days, then a week passed and Hermione and the rest of the fifth years braced for both the expected and unexpected masses of homework – essays, bookwork, notes. She sadly had to lessen her time knitting elf hats in the hope of doing all the homework first – and also finding time to find books on the Translation Charm.

According to Ron, there were no leads on the Charm yet – but there were plenty of books on Charms and Advanced Spells in the library, so Hermione estimated it could take a really long time to search. There would definitely be some confusion from Madam Pince if Hermione went up to her and requested to borrow a book that was sixth or even seventh year. But Hermione knew she was what some called 'overachiever' (in most of these cases she was unsure whether they called her that as an insult or compliment) so it wouldn't be a surprise for her.

One book on the subject was on her table, under many piles of scrolls both blank or either filled with a neat scrawl of tiny handwriting. So far, there was nothing on the Translation Charm – several mentions, followed by reminders that the Charm would appear in further books. On her first read of the book, Hermione had snapped the book shut. To her, there was no point to continue reading a book that was not relevant to the topic at hand.

She was going to read it later.

Hermione exited her dormitory and made her way down to the Gryffindor common room, where Harry and Ron were completing their respective homework on the desk. Ron gave a small wave upon noticing her, Harry simply looking up and nodding. It was an improvement from unreadable and dirty looks, Hermione mused.

It had been in her mind for a week, a week since she had decided to help Harry (unknown to him) and Ron with their Translation Charm research. She wondered if the homework was just going to be completed just for the sake of pushing it away. "Um, do you need help with any of the homework?"

She saw Harry hesitate, then sigh, staring at the parchment he was writing on. "I don't even know what I'm writing," he admitted. "It's Potions. Snape's going to kill me once he finds that I haven't done it right." He sighed and muttered curses.

"I can help," Hermione said nervously, and she took a seat next to Harry and helped him rewrite the essay. It had taken a while, and once they had finished Harry managed a small "thank you", a smile, then returned to his other work.

It pleased Hermione to see that Harry was no longer too angry at him.

* * *

Draco had had enough.

He had despised getting up so early in the morning, walking over to the school fields outside, Edward Elric waiting for him, eyes expressionless under his golden bangs. The Mudblood Hermione was always earlier than him, which annoyed him even more. Losing to a Mudblood was too much.

Draco glared at Granger and said, "Have you figured out the answer yet?"

The Mudblood shook her head, and said, "It's not something that can be easily found out, Malfoy."

" _I'm_ almost close," Draco replied, holding his head high in self-esteem. It was something his father had told him to do, and it gave him some sense, some feeling of superiority. A small voice in his head warned him not to lie, but he shoved this away. It would be nice persuading himself that he was further ahead. "Yes, I'm almost done; I'm starting to piece the puzzle together."

"If you've improved in your alchemy skills, then why haven't you done anything about your running?" Granger frowned at him. "I mean, you don't pass out anymore but you start getting tired after a minute or so." She sighed. "I think that's the advantage Muggle schools have over Hogwarts. At least people _exercise."_

Draco opened his mouth, ready to respond, but Elric spoke up. "Must I wait for you to stop fighting with your mouths before we start?" Silence, then… "Let's go, then."

And so they began to run. Hermione Granger sped up in front of him, which angered Draco. He could imagine his father's face in his mind, tutting as he saw a Gryffindor – a _Mudblood_ – beat him. Draco sighed. At this rate, it wasn't the tutoring of alchemy that would motivate him. More like the avoidance of the disappointment coming from his father.

 _All is one, one is all._ Damn, Draco had almost forgotten about that God-forsaken riddle. For all it was worth, it could be about the wizard tale that was stolen and modified by filthy Muggles – the Three Musketeers? All for one, one for all?

He panted. Running was not a sport for wizards. All those Muggles trying to keep "fit" with running – Draco wondered how they were able to survive such things. Especially when they were about to eat breakfast in about one or two hours.

Elric watched them from afar. Every time Draco passed him, the alchemist's eyes conveyed one message and one message alone: _Talk to me only when you've got the riddle._ Draco wanted to curse; this riddle was driving him mad. That and his heart beating continuously like the thumping of a drum, but an extreme speed. _Am I going to collapse?_

Anger built up in the young Slytherin, and after three-quarters of an hour, he stomped over to Elric, and in an attempt to gather confidence to complain of the unfairness of this alchemy game, he drawled, "You must really have some nerve, Elric, to give us some confusing riddle that you made up and probably doesn't even have any answer."

"I did not make it up with my mind," the Amestrian replied emotionlessly, but Draco could sense indignance in the boy's tone. "It was a riddle from my teacher, who got it from her teacher. And it _does_ have an answer. I do not think you need to have too much knowledge in alchemy to answer it. In fact, I think you can answer it with no knowing of how alchemy works at all."

"Then what's the point?" Draco shot at him. "What's the point of the riddle that isn't related to alchemy?"

"It has everything to do with alchemy," Elric glared. "I did not say it was not related. Those two are different things. Go back and run." He pointed at the Mudblood Granger, panting, stopping for a moment, then running again. "If you want to learn alchemy, go and run like Hermione. She is not complaining of my conditions-"

"You're being biased, aren't you?" he sneered. "I guess it was your luck being in the worst house and hanging around with lunatics and losers. I mean, Harry Potter isn't that special-"

"That I can agree with," Elric cut in, nodding. "Harry Potter thinks just because he is orphaned and has a scar that he is special.

"Then why hang with them?" Draco said. It was very annoying to him that this was happening, but Draco had sighed mentally in relief upon hearing someone outside of his own house that Harry Potter was not special. "It's not too late to go with Slytherin. I mean, what's holding you back? Slytherin's a great house, you'll earn Snape's favour, and we have some really cool people too."

Silence. Draco glanced at Elric; he was staring in the other direction.

"Why are you ignoring me?" Draco said desperately and irritated. "Come on and answer me!"

"I do not have choice – what is English word – obligation? I have no obligation to answer. This is not an interrogation. I do not have to answer to anything," Elric shrugged nonchalantly.

All Draco wanted was to protest about the riddle's unfairness. It had turned to this. He bit his lip, and as a last resort, he spluttered, "Do you know who my father is?"

"Your father?" Elric raised his eyebrows. "No, I do not."

"Well, my father is a very prominent wizard and he can send you back to Amestris if I told him you were subjecting me to Muggle activity!" Draco's voice was slightly shaking, but he was not going to let this Muggle, alchemist or not, intimidate him. "If I tell him about this he can force you to teach me alchemy, or just detain you and that Mustang man back to Amestris-"

"Your father is not my client," the alchemist said very loudly. "Did he ask for Mustang and me to be honorary guests for Hogwarts wizards? Did he ask me to be part of your student body for the whole of the school year? Did he request Amestris the mission?" He sighed. "Being honest, I do not think your father's name is Cornelius Fudge. Or is he a twin?"

He opened his mouth to retaliate, but Elric glared at him, and Draco gave a shiver. His eyes were golden and fiery, as if they could stare straight into the very depths of Draco's soul. "You are really making me annoyed. Go back and run, or just leave. Just go away."

"I'll tell my father about this," Draco said. He saw his father's face in his head; he could see the disappointed look on how he let a Muggle get to him. Maybe he shouldn't tell him at all. "He'll send you back to your country, mark my words."

"Well, there is one thing Ron Weasley is right about," Elric said, standing up and brushing the dust off behind him. "You do whine about your father a lot."

As Draco turned, ready to return back to the Slytherin dormitory, ready to get some rest before the day began, he heard a familiar voice call, "Elric! Edward Elric? Where are you?" He turned and bit his lip. It was the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, Angelina Johnson.

"Yes? Harry Potter is not with me if you need him, by the way," Elric replied.

"Harry?" Angelina frowned a little and sighed. "We can't do anything about him. You already know he's banned from the team forever. So are Fred and George."

"Yes… and?"

"Which brings me to my next point. Come with me."

They both ran and left. Hermione walked up beside Draco, who created a face of disgust and took a step away. "What was that about?" the Mudblood asked.

"How am I supposed to know?" Draco said, annoyed. There was no point thinking about it; his conversation with Elric had depleted his mood. "I'm going back."

Then he ran, leaving Hermione Granger still on the field.

* * *

"You do know my name, right?"

Ed stared at the girl. She was someone from Potter's sports team, no doubt, but he never knew her name. It wasn't really important, anyway. "No."

"Welp, I'm Angelina Johnson. And I know you're the exchange kid, the honorary alchemist guest from Amestris. Edward Elric. Good to meet you. You chose a good house to stay with, too." She held out her hand, and reluctantly, Edward took it. "Why did you ask for me?" he asked.

"Well, do you know what Quidditch is?"

Quidditch. It seemed to be the popular thing around the school. Even the teachers would get into the spirit of supporting their House teams. For Ed, it was quite boring for him to spectate teenagers in red, blue, yellow or green robes on flying sweeping devices playing around with different-coloured balls and hoops. Then he clapped a hand over his mouth. Did he say that aloud?

Angelina laughed. "Yes, it probably does seem like that, especially for someone who hasn't grown up with the sport – or experienced it at all on the back of a broomstick."

Then it clicked. But why of all people would she ask him? Of all people? He had no interest –

"No," Ed shook his head. "I do not want to play Quidditch. Sorry," he quickly added as Angelina sighed.

"So you did know what I was going to say," she said. "But we've had the tryouts. We got Ginny Weasley – Ron's sister – to play Seeker, so that's Harry's replacement sorted. But…" she put her head in her hand. "Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper… they're horrible! Compared to the rest of the idiots, they're decent but they're not going to help us win the Quidditch Cup! We really need to replace one of them as a Beater if we can, and it's be a great help to me if you tried out. You seem like you have potential, too."

Ed stared at her in bewilderment. "I've never been on a broomstick. I don't want to, either."

Angelina looked at him with a pleading look. "Come on, I'll teach you! Please, do me a favour."

 _God, wizards are stubborn,_ Ed thought, shaking his head as he reluctantly accepted and followed Angelina to the Quidditch field. The later this ended and she would no longer annoy Ed, the better.

"So the rules are easy," Angelina said as she came out of the broom shed, carrying a box of sphere balls of different sizes. "This red ball is the Quaffle. These three balls are the Bludgers. And this tiny one trapped up is the Snitch. The Snitch and the Quaffle are the least of your worries. In fact, the Snitch shouldn't bother you at all. But anyways, there are seven players. There are three Chasers – those look after the Quaffle, and shoot it through those big hoops." Angelina pointed at the three large golden hoops. "Shoot it through, and you get ten points. But it's not easy, because there's a player called the Keeper from the opposite team there to try and stop you. The Snitch is a small gold ball, and it flies a lot, very fast, hard to see. The Seeker's job is to find the Snitch and catch it, ending the game and winning their team one hundred and fifty points. But there's the Beaters. That's where you come in."

"Beaters?" Ed pointed at the three black balls. "Do they deal with these balls?"

"Yes. These balls are like rogues, they go wild around the field, knocking people off their brooms. A Beater's job is to hit the balls away from their team and towards the opposition."

Ed tracked his memory and remembered how the Weasley twins carried bats as they hit the balls with a _thock_ during previous Quidditch games, and asked, "Would that not cause serious injury?"

"Sometimes it does," Angelina nodded. "But we've got Madam Pomfrey to fix all injuries in a tick, if you get hurt it'll be fine."

That did not seem reassuring to Ed, but he nodded. "So you want me to be a Beater?"

"There's no other space on the team left, and I just want to kick out either Kirke or Sloper. I feel like you'll do good."

"And if I don't, you'll just stick to them both." Ed sighed. "I have never ridden a broomstick before, I told you that already. It's obvious I will fail. I'll be worse than both Kirke and Sloper combined."

"At least, do me a favour, please, and try out? It can't be that bad."

"Here," she said as she passed Ed a broomstick. "It's not a Firebolt like Harry's, but it's good and it'll do the trick. If I'm happy with your progress, I'll help you order a new one for future games."

 _But I don't want to play future games,_ Ed thought bitterly as he mounted his broom. But he hated to admit, that there was some tiny parts in his mind and body and soul that wanted to play, to give his whole heart to it. Something to do other than attend classes, study and keep an eye on Harry Potter. His pessimistic thoughts were shoved away as Angelina told him, "To fly, you kick off fairly hard from the ground, but not too hard since you're a beginner. Keep the broom steady and grip it like this-" she mounted her own broom and showed her grip to him – "and just move it around slowly. Here, I'll show you."

She kicked off from the ground and she rose up a few feet, and she flew around on the broomstick, making it seem as easy as opening a book. Then she descended slowly to the ground and said, "See? It's not that hard. You try."

Ed breathed and then kicked from the ground. Half-expecting it to drop back down to the ground, to his surprise it stayed suspended in the air. Then it began to move forward. _Huh,_ he thought. _What a strange feeling. It's not that bad._ The broomstick picked up speed, and Ed made it glide throughout the air and around the Quidditch field. The wind swept past his ears, his golden bangs flying up and down like wings, then as he descended, he cursed. _How the hell do you do that again?_

He hit the ground first with his automail left leg, creating a large dent in the soil ground. Angelina grinned. "It's a little hard to land at first but I think you've got it. How fun was that?"

Ed managed a small smile then shrugged. "A little fun."

"Now, I need to teach you how to be a Beater. I would get Fred and George but I don't want to risk Umbridge again, so forgive me if I'm a little rusty." Angelina grabbed a bat from the box and tossed it to Ed. "Your job is to hit the Bludger towards the other team. Come here." She gestured for Ed to approach the box of Quidditch balls and told him to release one of the black balls. He did what he was told, and the ball went speeding towards the Quidditch captain. She swung the bat – bat and ball met with a _thock –_ and the ball was hurtled away at a tremendous speed.

It reminded Ed of a certain sport back in Amestris. Someone threw a ball smaller in size than the Bludger, and another person hit the ball with a bat, and some other thing happened to be able to score points. Something like that. Whether he was good at it, he didn't know.

"Want to try?" Angelina held out the bat.

He opened his mouth to say 'no,' then Angelina held her hand up. "I'm not going to take no for an answer."

Ed bit back a curse, then reluctantly took the bat and held it in his hand. "Where is the ball?"

Angelina pointed. "It's coming back. Get on your broom."

Sighing, the alchemist got onto his broom and kicked off from the ground. The last thing he needed was to return to Amestris and Alphonse with a broken nose and a deformed face. The black ball headed towards him, and most of his mind was beginning to panic, beginning to brace for the impact. Ed shut his eyes, and hit the bat towards the ball –

He opened his eyes. "Where is it?"

There was a laugh, and Ed saw Angelina board her broom and fly up to him. "It hit the grass. You hit it down." She grinned. "Anyways, that was really good! I think you could join the team – just practice a bit more and I'll think you'll be ready for the matches."

"Wait – what?"

"You have the job of Beater now. I just have to get Kirke and Sloper to fight for the last spot." Angelina pat his back. "We'll give you some Quidditch robes sooner or later. And I'll make an order at Hogsmeade for a new broom."

Ed raised his eyebrows as he descended and landed softly onto the ground. A new broom? A cleaning device that would be used for a game, he would be riding a broom? And Beater… "Would it not be fair if I had the Beater job if I had only tried out today? And it's not even during tryouts?"

"Oh, don't worry," Angelina reassured him. "You'll be fine. Just some training and you'll be perfect for it. Besides," she added, "Harry only had a few training sessions from Wood before his next game – Wood. Oliver Wood, the old Keeper for the team," she quickly explained. "He was the Keeper before Ron."

He began to stammer, then he felt a tap on his shoulder. Behind him was Dean Thomas. "Hey, Ed? I can call you that now, right? McGonagall called for you to go straight to the Gryffindor common room. She said to come quickly. It's urgent." Then Thomas glanced at the Quidditch boxes and the broom. "Am I… interrupting something?" he asked nervously.

"Well, it's urgent, so you can go." Angelina nodded. "Come back tomorrow, Elric. If not, don't worry, I'll find you myself."

Ed nodded and waved goodbye to the Quidditch captain. What the hell would be so important?

* * *

He sprinted straight to the common room.

"Come here, Elric," McGonagall said gravely, her lips pursing into worry, then into a full frown. "I think you must see this."

* * *

 _Yes, I know. Boring chapter. But it's important for the upcoming parts of the story. A bit shorter than usual as well. It could be what you would call a 'filler.'_

 _I've got a few more things planned for the further story. And since my exams are over and the holidays are coming up, I might be able to update quicker – that's a good thing, haha._

 _Just the usual reviews and constructive criticism welcome. And a big thank you to the guest reviewer AG, who bothered to take the time and write a long review (emphasis on long) on the story. Thank you very much, I'll do my best to improve._


	15. Chapter 15

It was cold.

Cold, and dark.

Where was he?

He struggled to sit up, and when he was finally able to, he could see nothing, no matter how much his eyes attempted to get accustomed to the dark.

In the distance, he saw a dark figure. It slowly approached him, whispering in a tone of voice he couldn't hear. "Oh, you're awake?" the figure whispered. He was sure the voice belonged to someone he knew, but his mind was too fuzzy, too disoriented to think properly.

The figure lifted his wand and pointed at him. _"Imperio."_

* * *

Elric wasn't present at class today.

Strange, and it was already the sixth period, and he had not been in class the whole day. As he watched Flitwick call the names on the roll, he stopped at Elric. "Edward Elric?" he squeaked, looking around with his little head, until he halted suddenly as if he had suddenly hit an idea and muttered, as Harry passed him, "Oh, yes, yes, that doesn't matter…"

"What does that mean, 'that doesn't matter'? I mean, it's still a requirement for him to attend class," Harry asked Ron, who had taken his seat at the very back and opened the textbook, lifting it in a standing position.

"He could be sick," Ron guessed, then Harry heard a chair being pulled back. Hermione, who had just come straight from Arithmancy. "Maybe not," she shook her head.

Their little rift had been over, but Harry felt a pang of shame every time Hermione had sat with them. It had been a very stupid fight, once he had thought over it. But it still did not change Harry's suspicions on the alchemist.

After the bell had rang, Harry exited the class along with Ron and Hermione, then a small thought came into his head. "Wait – I forgot one of my quills back at the classroom – go ahead without me-" and went back into the Charms classroom, where Flitwick was about to examine the homework that had been left on the desk. He did not seem to notice Harry when he called, muttering a little, then squeaking unhappily when two of the parchment essays had fallen to the floor.

"Professor Flitwick?" Harry asked, as he picked up the essays and handed it back to the teacher. "I need to ask you something."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, Potter," he replied. "You wanted to ask me something?"

"Do you know anything about the Translation Charm?"

Flitwick looked at him and squeaked, "Wanting to be advanced in studies, Potter?"

"Yeah-" Harry began, but then Flitwick gave him a look, unconvinced. Then Harry sighed and said, "Well, it's not that. It's just that… Elric gave me permission for me to read his books on alchemy, but the thing was, everything was in Amestrian. And Hermione's trying to get Elric to teach her how to do alchemy, and she has access to the books too, so…"

The last part was not really a lie, but at the same time not the truth. Elric had never given anyone permission to touch the Amestrian books that laid inside his suitcases. But Hermione was trying to learn alchemy, wasn't she?

"Ah, more understandable. The Translation Charm is very difficult, however. You only learn it around the beginning of seventh year if you continue to take Charms for NEWT, and the amount of time the spell work depends on the confidence of the user. But nevertheless, the time that the spell is effective is fairly short."

"We've been looking through the library, but me and – I mean, Hermione and I can't seem to find too much information on it."

"Yes, it's in the Restricted Section," Flitwick said. It confused Harry on why a simple Translation spell would be put in the Restricted Section. Noticing Harry's baffled look, the Charms professor continued, "the Translation spell is compiled in a book with other spells and charms that could cause the user harm if not done properly. The Restricted Section is full of advanced books anyways."

"So, Professor…" Harry reached into his backpack and brought out a piece of parchment. "If you can sign this, and write the name of the book down there, we'll just get the book and learn the Charm."

"Of course… as long as it is just for the Translation Charm, right, Potter?" Flitwick glared at him and Harry nodded. With that confirmation, Flitwick signed his name, wrote down the name of the book – _Even More Advanced Difficulty 7_ _th_ _Year Spells_ – and handed it to Harry, who grinned, said a word of thanks, stuffed the parchment in his bag and hurried out of the room towards the next activity of the day – reminding himself to tell Ron – and soon Hermione – about the success of the plan.

* * *

The mystery of what had happened to Ed and his whereabouts was not really a mystery at all.

At the end of the school day, Ron, Hermione and Harry had hurried to return to the Gryffindor common room and they saw a lone small figure slouching on the couch, head in a book.

A small figure with long golden blond hair and long bangs, not even wearing a Hogwarts school robe, head down in a book. He was wearing a glossy black Muggle jacket with a zipper and Muggle pants and something that reminded Harry of Muggle military boots. A chain was attached from under his jacket into his pocket. The only thing that he still wore from normal school days were his gloves. _He must be very attached to gloves,_ he thought.

So Elric was skipping class and wearing Muggle attire in a wizarding school.

"You're not supposed to be here," Harry said, a little annoyed. "Why weren't you at class today? Hey," he said, as he noticed that the Amestrian had barely heard him. He snapped his fingers next to his ear. No sign that he had even heard it. Then Harry yanked the book away from him. "Hey! What do you want?" He noticed that Elric's eyes were black and droopy. Probably reading books a lot too much again at night, Harry assumed.

"Why weren't you at class today?" Harry asked. "You're still technically an exchange student here so you still have to attend classes."

Elric looked at him strangely. "They… allowed me to skip class today. Just for today. I will be back tomorrow. Can you give me back my book now?

Harry shook his head. "Not yet. Why did they allow you? I mean, you don't look sick."

"It – doesn't matter," said Ed, immediately bringing out his hand to grab the book back. "Not important."

"It's got to be important enough for you to be skipping class," Hermione said, and Harry somehow felt strangely happy that Hermione had finally found something to agree with him. "Or…" she lowered her voice, "does it have anything to do with the Order?"

"No," Elric said, "why would I have to tell you? You are all nosy. Now… give – me – back – my – book."

Harry held it further away from the alchemist's reach, until Ron said, "The more you do that, the less Elric's going to tell you anything, mate. Just give it back."

There was a minute's hesitation, then Harry sighed and returned it to Elric, who in turn said, "There would be no point for you if you were to read it anyway. It is all in Amestrian – my language."

That reminded Harry – Elric's mail was still being kept at the bottom of Harry's mattress on his bed. It had taken a while to store it in a way it would not get too squashed, but he felt confident that he had tried his best. _Just you wait,_ he thought viciously, _I have your mail. When I learn that Translation Charm, I'll know everything you're hiding –_

"Hoot."

 _What?_

Looking up, he noticed that an owl was hovering over his head, flapping its wings frantically. He thought at first that it was Hedwig, then noticed the colour differed from the pure white coat of Harry's snowy owl.

"Go away, Owlbus," Ed grumbled, waving his arm towards the window to the Owlery. "Go to your owl friends." He muttered angrily in Amestrian, then the owl – why the hell would he name an owl Owlbus? – angrily snapped its beak at him then flew away. Then he noticed the alchemist was holding mail.

"What is it?" Harry rushed over to Ed's shoulder, and he noticed handwriting that was very familiar:

 _Edward,_

 _Your new broomstick came today. Would it be alright if you came over to the Quidditch field to practise your Beater skills a little?_

 _We'll need you to practise for the Quidditch games happening after the holidays because that's when the Beater solution will be solved and you'll be put in._

 _Angelina_

 _PS: The broomstick is a Cleansweep Eleven._

"Wait, you're a Beater?!" Harry spluttered out as soon as his eyes had completed skimming through the short message. "Since when? Were you at the tryouts?"

"I thought you didn't like Quidditch!" Ron said, bewildered.

"I don't," Ed said, folding up the letter into a small square and placing it in his pocket. "I was just trying to get Angelina off my back. Next moment, I am a person called a Beater who hits bats at a Bludger ball."

"You got a Cleansweep Eleven? I've got one too, mate!" Ron grinned, clapping Ed on the back. "I'm a Keeper for the team – you know, the guy who stops the Quaffle from entering the hoops. But wasn't Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper going to be Beaters? If you're joining, one of them needs to be kicked out. But then again, they were idiots. Only that they were the best idiots there."

"Yes, Angelina said she was going to make them fight for the position," Ed said, still with a straight face, but with a twitch of a smile playing on the side of his lips then disappearing as soon as it came. He turned to leave, but Ron pressured him to stay and he began to talk about his favourite Quidditch teams, leaving Harry and Hermione.

A strange feeling bubbled up in Harry; not one of hate, but one very extremely close; one that included jealousy, how Elric, who had showed his distaste for Quidditch and had never been on a broom before, was able to take the position on the team when he, Harry, was much more experienced, and was forced to have a lifetime ban. He knew it very well that it was wrong to feel spiteful towards Elric that way, but it was a feeling he knew he couldn't control.

"Hey," Harry said, "I need to show you something."

He led Hermione to the dormitory, which was empty. He lifted the mattress of his four-poster a little and took out Elric's mail, all in Amestrian, the mail that never reached the intended recipient – mail from the military and personal friends, he was sure.

Hermione bit her lip. It was not the reaction Harry was expecting. "What is it?"

"Well…"

She quickly informed Harry of Ron telling her about the plan a few days back. Harry curled his lip. If he were still angry at Hermione, he knew he would have shouted at her. But now, he shook his head and waved the incident away with indifference. It didn't bother him at all. In fact, it made the explaining a whole lot easier.

"That's why I got Flitwick to sign this…" Harry took the parchment with Flitwick's signature and said, "We just have to get the book and we'll be on our way."

"Isn't reading mail illegal, though?" Hermione whispered nervously. "And if the teachers find out, you'll be in serious trouble, especially from Umbridge-"

"Umbridge's been reading and intercepting my letters already," Harry said, shaking his head. "Punishing me for reading mail that doesn't belong to me would make her more of a hypocrite than she actually is."

"And what about Edward?" Hermione asked. "If the teachers don't find out, then what about him? Do you know how mad he could be if he finds out? Letters are personal property! And if confiscating it isn't enough, you're planning to translate them and read through his private messages!"

"Keep the volume down, Hermione!" Harry hissed. "I'm only doing this to find out what Elric and Mustang are hiding. Elric's not willing to tell me anything – he's not even telling me why he hasn't been in class today!" He took a breath, and said, "he even told me that bodyguarding me wasn't the real reason he was here." He picked up one of Elric's envelopes, saying, "this could be the answer. All we need is the Translation Charm and we'll be all set to go."

Hermione sighed, and Harry awaited her verdict, like a prisoner at court. She said, "Fine. I'll come and help you with the Translation Charm." Harry opened his mouth, but she continued, "I just want to learn the Charm. Not help you with the letter." But her words lacked absolute conviction.

"You want to look at it a bit, don't you, Hermione?" Harry said with a smirk.

"No!... Well…" Pink flushes of embarrassment and shame appeared on her face. "I just want to see a little. Not because I want to peek into his personal life, I just want to see what life in Amestris is like."

"Can't you just ask Elric for that, then? Face it, Hermione, you want to take a little peek at the letters – maybe not as much as we do, but you still want to."

Harry placed the form back in his bag, and they both went back downstairs only to see McGonagall call for Elric, and she said firmly, "Mr Elric, please come here." She whispered in a voice Harry couldn't hear, and it ended with the alchemist nodding his head and leaving the common room.

All that was left to get some answers was McGonagall. The three got up and approached her.

"Professor McGonagall," Harry said. "What was that about?"

"Nothing you should worry about, you three," the professor shook her head. "Off you trot."

"It could be important, though!" Ron said. "We need to know!"

"No. It's not a matter concerning students."

"Please, Professor McGonagall, I mean," Hermione lowered her voice, "I mean, it's probably involved with the _Order,_ right? So technically, we have a right to know."

McGonagall coughed at the mention of the word _Order_ , then pursed her lips. "It's not something I would confide in with plenty of students, so come outside with me." She ushered Harry, Ron and Hermione out of the common room through the Fat Lady, and she said, "The Headmaster allowed Elric to stay off from school for a day to process what had happened. Especially since Roy Mustang's disappearance happened so suddenly."

Blood rushed through Harry's ears as soon as the Transfiguration professor had revealed the news, Ron's mouth was open, gaping, and Hermione gasped. "Disappearance?"

"Vanished last night," McGonagall replied. "Dumbledore had called for Mustang and he sent a teacher to get him, but when we opened the door, he was gone." She sighed. "The bedroom was left in a mess. Almost as if he was in a hurry."

"Did he go back to Amestris?" Ron asked.

There was silence, a nervous silence. McGonagall shook her head. "We don't think that's the case," she said. "Roy Mustang is not the type of person to leave so promptly without notifying the school. But just in case, Dumbledore has written a letter to the Amestrian military regarding his current status."

Suspicions, thoughts, theories. All of them were swirling around in Harry's head.

"Now go back to the common room," the professor said, tone a little snappish. "The teachers do not wish for this to become large news among the school."

"Everyone's going to notice he's gone, though," Harry said.

"We have made up an excuse, and certain members of the Order has been instructed to begin a search for him immediately. If anything happens to Mustang, we will be held responsible. And I do not think this would improve the relationships between our two communities." She saw the three students, eager to learn more, and shook her head. "Now go back to your common room. That's all you need to know."

Harry and Ron began to protest, and Hermione shook her head and ushered them back through the Fat Lady.

McGonagall sighed. It was probably for the best that she had not told the three of them about Dumbledore's suspicions. She had decided not to tell them of the suspicions whether this had anything to do with You-Know-Who.

But she felt as if they would find out on their own anyway.

* * *

It was a few days after the news of Mustang's disappearance and the last Defence meeting of the year had ended and Ed, several thoughts in his head, approached Harry.

"Hey," Harry replied. "Do you need anything?"

"The running."

"The what?"

Ed raised his eyebrows. "You forgot that soon? I fought with Zacharias Smith, that annoying Hufflepuff person. We had a duel. I won. The winning condition was that the whole Dumbledore's Army get to run."

"Just because you won just against Smith, doesn't mean most of the DA want to run, especially when the holidays are coming soon. If you want, we can do it when we come back next year after the holidays."

Ed clicked his tongue in annoyance as he sauntered away. He remembered at the beginning of the year, despite his reluctance to go to Hogwarts, he had felt some excitement. That excitement was already close to becoming aero as the year had progressed. He had disliked Umbridge, disliked the wizards' nosiness, disliked Harry's attitude and how he wanted to know everything at once.

And now Mustang was gone. Despite being the fucking bastard he was, he kind of _missed_ the Colonel. It was all the wizards' fault, wasn't it? They had asked him to come to help them, and now he was in God knows where.

He walked around the room, through the hustle and bustle and the chatter of the young wizards. He ducked and winced at the banner saying _HAVE A VERY HARRY CHRISTMAS!_ and the golden baubles that hang at the ceiling.

"Hey, Ed! Ed!" Ron called up to him from behind as he approached him. "You're coming to the Burrow for this Christmas, by the way."

"Burrow?" Ed's mind traced back to the English dictionary handbook he had read at the beginning of the school year. A picture of a hole where moles lived appeared in his head. "You… live in a burrow?"

Ron laughed and shook his head. "Nah, that's just what you call my family's house. Mum invited you to stay – well, technically you're part of _the Order,"_ he whispered the last two words in a deathly silent volume, "and since Mustang isn't here, she's decided to take you in as a guardian for the time being. Harry's coming too."

He walked away, grinning and Ed frowned. If it were up to him, he would have decided to stay at Hogwarts. He wanted a rest from sticking around with Harry, and he wasn't sure if he was prepared to meet the rest of the Order again, even if most of them were nice to him.

But the way Ron was speaking to him, it seemed like Mrs Weasley had decided to bring Ed to the Burrow for Christmas, no matter what. Christmas was a holiday new to Edward, but it seemed to be a holiday that originated from a religion celebrating a significant figure's birth. No wonder he didn't know, especially when Amestris and its surrounding states mostly claimed agnostic and atheist beliefs, and Ed himself was one who didn't believe in a higher power.

Ed passed Angelina, who clapped him on the back and introduced him to the other Quidditch team members – Chasers Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet. "This is our new Beater," she said proudly. "I watched him myself. He was really good for his first."

"What broom are you using for a Beater?" Bell asked him.

"Something called a Cleansweep," Ed said, and his mind went back to the package he had received the other day – the new broomstick, with a sleek handle and had amazing speed. The thrill he had felt on that broom was unforgettable.

"Eleven," Angelina added, "the latest one."

"That's amazing!" Spinnet grinned at Ed, who took this cue to wave goodbye and leave.

He decided to exit the Room of Requirement and write another letter to Al. It had been a while since he had received mail from him. There were no more Amestrians to talk to in the castle anyway.

 _To hell with Umbridge, if she messes with this letter,_ Ed thought angrily. _I'll send it at midnight. She can't be awake by then –_

"Hello, Mr Elric," a little girlish voice brought him away from his thoughts and back to reality. Ed cursed, wondering how he always ran into Umbridge again and again. "Studying well in our school, I hope?"

"Yes," he replied. "I have to go back to my common room, Professor, so, _would you…?"_ He emphasised the last two words in the hope of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher would move out of the way, but it seemed like she never heard him. "Come, let's have a cup of tea."

"But-"

"Let's have a cup of tea, Mr Elric," Umbridge repeated, her voice obviously now showing a hint of force in it. "Let's go to the office." She grasped his shoulder tightly, and tinges of nervousness surged through Ed. It was almost as if Umbridge had dipped her hand in a bucket of freezing cold water and then suddenly took it out and touched Ed's bare skin.

The explosions of hot pink and lace seemed to welcome Ed as the door to Umbridge's office shut – or maybe they leered at him, almost laughing at him.

"Let's have some tea, Mr Elric," she said, in that forceful tone once again, and he knew there was no turning back. He gingerly took the cup of tea prepared for him and took a small sip.

"I suppose you've heard about the news already? About Roy Mustang?" Ed said nothing in response, but nevertheless, she continued, "Poor Roy. I mean, he hasn't been here long enough then the military had to unfortunately call him back..."

Ed widened his eyes. "The military called him back to Amestris?"

"It's the only explanation for it, isn't it?" Umbridge took a sip from her own cup and said, "It must be some urgent, _grown-up_ business he has to attend to."

"What do you mean by 'grown-up', Professor?" Ed could feel his hand shaking, like an old man's, on the handle of his cup. Was it with nervousness? Some anger? He didn't know.

"Some business with the military a child like you would not be able to understand or handle," Umbridge said, waving her hand as if to say this all meant nonsense. She moved in closer to the desk, towards Ed, and said, "Which brings me to my next point, Mr Elric. Why would a military government, one so sophisticated and mighty like yours, enlist a boy of only fifteen? At this age, many boys around the world like you would be attending school."

 _There are no boys around the world like me. No-one in the world would ever be so much of a fool to try human transmutation._ Ed sighed. "That is none of your business, Professor." At Umbridge's eyebrow raise, he said it again, in a politer way, "It's some personal business that is only between me and the military, Professor."

"I see…" As Umbridge trailed off, Ed placed the cup down and said, "I think I will have to go now."

"Yes, alright," Umbridge said, nodding, but as Ed opened the door to exit the office, Umbridge said, "I look forward to working with you for the rest of this school year… especially after the Christmas break."

Ed said nothing and made sure to act as if she had said nothing; he closed the door and headed back towards the Gryffindor common room. He thought a lot about what had happened when he was summoned to Dumbledore's office just three days ago, all in Amestrian:

" _Mr Edward? Minerva? Is it you two?" Dumbledore asked from behind the door, a door Ed had knocked on three times before the Headmaster had spoken up._

" _It's just me," Ed said, and with Dumbledore saying, "Come in!" Ed opened the door. It had been a while since Ed had been in the Headmaster of Hogwarts' office. The last time he was here, he remembered how he and Mustang bickered, McGonagall and Snape staring dubiously at their Amestrian exchanges, and Ed reluctantly made up a report for Dumbledore on the spot._

" _So you've heard the news from Minerva – Professor McGonagall – about Roy?" Ed was almost surprised when he heard Dumbledore's Amestrian – then remembered that he had spoken his language to him and Roy when they had first met them. The next few times he met Dumbledore, almost everything was said in English._

 _Ed nodded. He had been given a day off from school from the teachers in the hopes the news would be kept quiet. It was all a surprise to him, really. He felt that the fact the Flame Colonel had disappeared_

" _I have sent a letter to your Fuhrer-President. Hopefully, he is expected with a reply in about a week… hopefully, less. And some of the Order have been sent to search for him. The Ministry will probably be involved in this too, seeing as that Roy Mustang was put into their custody as soon as he stepped foot in this country."_

" _What's going to happen now?" Ed asked. A small dot of hope appeared in his mind. "Do I go back to Amestris now?"_

 _Dumbledore shook his head. "The Ministry asked if you were to stay here. If you wanted to, they can send a Ministry official to be your bodyguard in case something similar happens to you."_

" _No. I do not want bodyguard." The teenage wizards here at Hogwarts were already nosy enough for Ed to handle; he did not want a fully-grown Ministry official to watch his every move._

" _I should think not," Dumbledore said. "Tell me, have you heard or seen anything suspicious prior to today recently? I have my suspicions, of course, but…"_

 _He traced through his memory. Recent? Not really. For some reason he did not want to tell Dumbledore of Umbridge's orders to get rid of Hagrid – it was not something he wanted to do, and he hoped Umbridge would forget all about this during the Christmas break._

" _No," he said after a long pause, and Dumbledore nodded._

" _I see."_

" _Professor, what will you do now? Amestris will not be happy."_

" _Like I said, I sent a letter to Bradley, asking him to understand the circumstances and our next moves towards this. And… Edward… how is Harry?"_

" _Being an annoying little piece of shit," Ed muttered absentmindedly in Amestrian, then cursed; they had been speaking in Amestrian the whole time. The Headmaster of Hogwarts raised an eyebrow at this, and Ed continued, "He's just being really stubborn. He's becoming more nosy, too."_

" _You can't blame him," Dumbledore sighed, "I think part of that is my fault. I did keep him in the dark for about half of the summer holidays, after all._

" _You can go now, Edward, thank you for your time. And remember, Edward, no matter what happens, if you sense or see something suspicious around the castle, please don't hesitate to tell me immediately. If I'm not available, go and see McGonagall or Snape. We need to find Roy Mustang immediately."_

His dislike for the wizarding world was rising rapidly again. If it weren't for them asking two alchemists to bring themselves involved in their business, this would've never happened.

Ed swore under his breath and muttered angrily a little more, until the Fat Lady portrait shook him from his thoughts. "You know, are you just going to walk around sulking? The common room is here."

* * *

Fuhrer-President King Bradley stared at the letter he had just received.

 _Dear Fuhrer Bradley,_

 _I write about a matter that must be addressed in urgency. There is no easy way to state this._

 _One of your state alchemists, Roy Mustang, has disappeared over the night. His bedroom in the teachers' dormitories was left in a mess, there was no trace of him, his belongings – which I remember are kept in a single trunk – were nowhere to be seen, apart from two Hogwarts teachers' robes beside the bed._

 _I have requested the Order to begin an undercover search immediately, and the Ministry, because of Roy being one of their honorary guests will probably begin action soon._

Bradley bit his lip. Was it right for him to send a potential candidate away, only for him to suddenly disappear?

Father would not be happy about this.

If Edward Elric were to disappear the same way – a _definite candidate –_ it would prove to be disastrous. Bradley was sure that his brother was waiting for Edward, as well as a few others from his hometown of Resembool. Bradley closed his eyes, imagining the situation of Alphonse, just having received information on his brother's disappearance.

He bit his lip. He read the next part of the letter:

 _We kindly ask of you not to send Edward back to Amestris. The Ministry have asked this themselves (the tip-off from Tonks) and we (the Order) have some suspicions about Roy's disappearance, based on some previous events. And we feel the threat of Voldemort is slowly growing stronger, and we feel Edward would be helpful with this._

 _Do not worry about your soldier, we will get Roy Mustang back. Enclosed in the manila folder strapped upon Fawkes' back contains an alternative plan I have created._

 _Please return Fawkes immediately upon receiving everything, response or no response. It is not prudent to send a letter back, however, for I have a worrying suspicion that Professor Umbridge, a professor from our school sent as a Ministry representative, is intercepting letters to read them._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Albus Dumbledore_

 _Fawkes?_ Bradley looked around and then saw the large red, fiery bird soaring around the room, the two lieutenants who had just entered the office to deliver a document let out two squeaky yelps. One brought his shotgun out, but Bradley said firmly, "Wait," and walked calmly under Fawkes, who settled down and descended.

A brown manila folder was strapped on his back. Bradley took it, and patted Fawkes diligently on the head, saying, "Good. You can go back to Dumbledore, now," and Fawkes let out a squawk and flew out the open window.

"S-sir?" One of the men whispered. "We have a d-document here… needs to be looked at…"

"Put in on my desk," Bradley said, as he began to open the folder. "I need to take a look at something more important first."

* * *

 _By the way, I recommend that you all watch the film How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World. Such a brilliant conclusion that'll leave you satisfied. It's a great must-see._

 _To MadamMirage77, don't worry, your review made me laugh, being honest. Harry may or may not suffer the consequences, as Hermione warned him in this chapter, but I don't know, let's see._

 _To yaoishipsforlife, I gave it a think, but having Edward ride a broom in a game he initially disliked was what I wanted to have in the plot. The automail may be an extra weight, but the brooms have managed to hold more bulky and heavier people than Edward (and possibly the automail) so I assumed that the brooms could hold more than they looked._

 _To guest reviewer Mor – no, Ed won't have any problems with his limbs, either flesh or automail upon a broomstick._

 _To ShaunChe, thank you for your review. As for Al, I can't reveal anything yet, but I hope you stick around to see what happens next._

 _To the guest sayshinee, thanks for your review and your little negative feedback. I'd planned to put Ed in the Quidditch team originally while I was still doing Chapter 1 of the story, I wanted to see how things went out._

 _To AG, thank you once again for the long-detailed feedback! And no, I don't really think that Harry was this obsessive in the books, but his yearning for the truth (especially since he was kept in the dark during a whole month at the beginning of OoTP) and how he and his friends try to get to the bottom of everything in almost all of the books made me want to put in another mystery in the action, especially since I did not want the fanfiction turn into a story where Ed was simply an extra character._

 _To sexyjutsunonaruto, thank you for your review. I'm glad you enjoyed it!_

 _To the two guests who seemed to be a little sad about leaving Chapter 14 in a cliff-hanger, BrightHeart10 and Flickered Raven (no, you were not pushy at all), I laughed a little, being frank. Thank you for your reviews!_

 _To the guest who called Umbridge a racist, yes, I agree._

 _To Meiiii, thank you for your support and I'm happy you like it! You've got a lot of questions, though, I hope to answer them all in the best way for the story possible!_

 _To AlchemyWriter, thank you for your review! And no, it ended up not being the confiscated letters. Will Ed find out? Only time will tell._

 _Reviews and constructive criticism welcome. Thank you very much for the reviews and support._


	16. Chapter 16

Love was surely a mysterious thing for Harry.

It was a thought that had stayed with him since the conclusion of the last Dumbledore's Army meetup. Cho Chang, whose face was filled with tears, had approached him. They had talked, but somehow, almost magically, the conversation had changed drastically to one involving Cedric.

Then it changed.

"I like you, Harry."

He did something what he thought he'd never do.

"Kissed her, Harry?" Ron said much later, a smile creeping onto his face, slowly morphing into a sly grin. "You _kissed_ her?"

Ron, Hermione and surprisingly Edward were sitting together with Harry in a group. Edward had currently said nothing on the subject, but his eyes had widened when Harry slowly nodded.

While Ron laughed and patted Harry on the back and asked how the kiss had felt Hermione was playing an opposite response. She gave Ron a look of disgust and sighed. "Well…" Harry made unnecessary gestures with his hands in desperation. "Well, she was crying."

"That's all she does these days, Harry," said Hermione plainly. "She cries in class, during meals in the Great Hall, in the girls' toilets. Honestly, I think she could rival Moaning Myrtle."

The conversation went in deeper as they conversed about Cho, Cedric, and the fact Harry had kissed her to stop crying; Edward had let out a noise showing his disgust and disinterest, muttering, "This is stupid," then walked away. Harry shrugged. He had nothing to contribute to the subject at hand anyway.

"Why, for heaven's sake, are we talking about this, anyway?" Hermione sighed. "There are more serious things to talk about, like…" Hermione glanced around, checking to see if anyone was hearing, "the Translation. Or… Roy Mustang's disappearance."

There was silence. Harry frowned and said, "Strange of him to disappear around this time. I mean,

"Hey! ELRIC!" Ron called. It turned out that the alchemist was at the corner of the common room, preparing to head over to the stairs. He ambled over to the trio, book slung under his arm, and asked, "What you all want?"

"About Mr Mustang," Hermione said. "Do you know what could've happened? I mean, you're the only one we can consult."

Edward shrugged. "Don't know."

"Not anything? Like any clues, leads? Did… the _group_ say anything?"

"No clues, no leads, no anything," he said, a hint of coldness in his voice. "Even Dumbledore didn't tell me that much."

Harry instantly stood up. "You talked to Dumbledore?!"

Edward nodded. "Yes, that's where I went after McGonagall told me about the incident."

Harry bit his lip, trying to contain his anger. Dumbledore, who had refused to see him, who had kept him in the dark during the first half of the summer holidays, who had barely talked to Harry the whole year?! And he was casually inviting Elric to go to his office?

"Fuck," he swore loudly, and Hermione glared at him, and Edward said, "What is the problem?"

"No – nothing," Harry said, through gritted teeth. Edward quickly waved to the three and said, "Going now," and Hermione and Ron turned their attention to their friend. "What was that for?" hissed Hermione.

"It's nothing, Hermione, I was just thinking…" He trailed off into nothing, his words lacking conviction, until he noticed Hermione and Ron looking at him strangely. He decided to change the topic.

"Do you have the book on the charms, Hermione?" Harry asked. She nodded, and reached into her bag, revealing the book from the Restricted Section. It was a plain old book, named _Even More Advanced Difficulty 7_ _th_ _Year Spells –_ surely a book Harry and his friends were not to lay eyes on until their final year in the wizarding school. "I've been reading the first few pages and it really is interesting," Hermione said, excitement clear in her voice. "Knowing these spells so early in our school career, that would give us all an extra boost in our OWLs for practicals-"

"Where's the Translation Charm bit?" Harry asked impatiently, taking the book into his hands, the pages making a crisp sound as he turned them. Ron peered over his shoulder and Hermione looked from the right as they read the part on Translation Charms:

 _The Translation Charm is quite a difficult, advanced spell that is used to translate any writing in a foreign language to an understandable language spoken by the user. A higher level of difficulty would be to place the Translation Charm on a person or an object, so that when it is placed on that certain person (or object is worn) any word spoken by the person will be a word in the desired language. An example is shown below:_

There was a magical picture of a wizard waving his wand on a piece of parchment filled with characters that looked Chinese, or Japanese, then tapping his wand on the parchment. There was a small white ball of light from the wand, and as soon as it had died, the characters began to form into English letters – a quote from _A History of Magic,_ one of Harry's textbooks. Then the picture shimmered and reversed, starting again from the very beginning.

Ron snorted. "That looks easy enough."

"It wouldn't be if it would be in a book of advanced difficulty spells for NEWT level," Hermione said. "Look, you have to be careful about the wand gesture and have to focus and everything. It's not as easy as you think."

They continued to read a little more, until Harry said, "I don't think it would be safe to be reading it around here," he said. He closed the book, saying, "I'll keep the book where the mail is. We'll look at it tomorrow."

Hermione shook her head. "I'll keep it instead. It's more credible if I have it. I'll copy down the text onto some parchment, so we can keep on practising it even after we return the book."

Harry nodded, then handed the book to her. The letters were now in Harry's trunk, at the very bottom, under his cloaks and his books. _They were one step closer._

* * *

As Ed headed over to his four-poster bed to return some books to the library, he felt a little something under his foot, and looked down, and cursed. It was an empty envelope, with some writing on it.

He frowned. _What would be the point of keeping a used envelope?_ He bent to pick it up and widened his eyes when he looked at the address. _Harry Potter, Grifindor (?) House, Hogwarts._ The writing was sloppier than normal, but the handwriting was unmistakeable – the handwriting of Alphonse Elric, Edward Elric's younger brother.

Ed was sure he was not going to be as nosy as the certain wizard who was the recipient of this letter, so he folded the envelope and stuffed it in his Hogwarts robe pocket. He made a note to ask Harry about this.

* * *

 _He had entered the Room of Requirement, a bag of Dobby-shaped Christmas baubles in his hand, then to his surprise, Harry saw Cho there. She was red-faced and angry, tears streaming down her face. He looked confused, asking, "Are you alright?"_

" _You promised me a hundred and fifty Chocolate Frog cards if I showed up, Harry! There aren't any cards in there, right, Harry?"_

 _Harry began to protest, but she continued, "You lured me here, didn't you? Wanted to mock me?_ Cedric gave me loads of Chocolate Frog cards, look!" _From her pockets, from inside her Hogwarts robe, she pulled out hundreds – no,_ thousands _of cards and Harry wondered what the hell had happened._

" _I only came to put up some Christmas decorations…" Harry began but stopped as cards slowly began to flood the D.A. room._ Why would she want more, anyway? _he thought bitterly._ She probably has the whole collection…

 _With a shimmer, the dream changed as smoothly as fluid. He felt powerful, streamlined, flexible. He had power. He could kill. He passed metal bars, slithering on his belly, hissing softly. Was the corridor empty?_

 _He looked behind him. Yes, good. He was still following Harry. A man in a dark black cloak, his hood draped low over his face – he nodded, gesturing to a dark shadow in front of them. A figure in an Invisibility Cloak._

 _Should he bite him?_

 _No. He had more important work to do. If he was still there when the job was done, he would bite him later._

 _But the man was slowly awakening. He knew there was something out there. The cloaked figure behind him beat him to it; he lifted the silvery cloak, revealing a red-headed man. Shocked, but easily regained composure. He backed away, bringing out his wand like a warrior to his sword._

Well, there was no choice then. _It was a waste, he thought, but he felt no remorse. He lifted himself from the ground, then lunged._

 _Once._

 _Twice._

 _Three times._

 _Harry's fangs plunged into the man, deeply into his flesh, he could feel the bone, almost taste the blood. He could hear the man's screaming in pain, then – it came to a sudden halt. He pulled away. He saw the man enter unconsciousness, fall backwards with a_ thump.

 _There was satisfaction in Harry, a perverse satisfaction that he had never felt until that moment, the moment when those fangs had pierced that blood traitor's flesh._

 _He slithered back to the cloaked figure, who held a gloved finger to his lip and approached the unconscious Weasley._

 _He removed the hood and saw the raven-haired, stoic face of Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist._

* * *

Ron woke with a jolt when he heard the scream.

Pulling the curtains back, he glanced around frantically, searching for the source of the noise, then found it. Harry was screaming on his four-poster bed, turning in his sleep like a lunatic.

"What the bloody hell?" he heard Seamus' voice in the dark. Ron heard Dean stir awake, muttering similar things. "What's happening?"

"It's Harry!" Ron jumped from his bed and approached Harry's bed, Neville whimpering from behind. His blankets and bedcovers were all over the place, twisted and crumpled. He shook him continuously, almost violently, but Harry continued to yell and shout in his sleep, and Ron barely heard Elric's voice over the noise, "What is happening?"

"I'm getting scared," Neville whispered as Elric approached Harry's bed. Despite the darkness, Ron could see Elric's annoyed face, then, for a moment, it flashed to one of concern, then it turned to one that was unreadable.

He heard Seamus almost out of earshot, "That's mad, that is," but he paid no attention. As much as he wanted to punch him now, he refrained from doing so. After all, there were more serious matters to attend to.

"L-Lumos," Neville stammered fearfully as he spoke the incantation, and a tiny ball of light appeared from his wand.

"Harry! HARRY!" Ron was getting really worried now. "WAKE UP, HARRY!" His body was drenched in sweat despite the cool night, his skin felt very warm to the touch. _Is he having some kind of nightmare?_ he bit his lip. "HARRY!"

Suddenly, his eyelids opened, much to Ron's relief. Harry was panting heavily, and to Ron's horror, he saw Harry's gasp in pain, holding his hand up to his lightning-shaped scar.

"Harry! Are you all right?"

There was no response. Then Harry slapped his hands to his mouth and turned to the side of the bed. Seeing what he was going to do, Elric widened his eyes and headed for the foot of the bed – just before Harry vomited.

"He's really ill, oh my God," Neville said in a scared voice. The light on his wand from the Lumos charm clearly depicted his terrified face. "Should we call someone? A teacher?"

"Harry! You all right now, mate?"

Harry looked at him, grabbing his arm. He sat up, panting, "It's – _your dad!_ Your dad's… he's been attacked…"

He was confused at this. Was Harry still thinking he was dreaming? "What?"

"YOUR DAD!" he said, almost yelling. "He's been bitten, three times, it's really serious, there was blood everywhere…"

Ron didn't know what to think. He was left speechless, there was silence until Neville piped up, "I'm going to for help. I'll be back as quick as I can," and he left, the door closing quietly. He breathed, then said, "Mate, you were dreaming… just dreaming…"

"NO!" Harry glared at him, a furious fire burning in his eyes; Ron barely heard Seamus mutter again, but Harry's tone forced him to stay focused. "It was _not_ a dream! It was not an ordinary one, anyway… I was _there…_ I saw it happen, Ron! And I…" Harry looked stricken. _"I_ did it…"

Ron's hands began to tremble. _Harry isn't thinking straight, my dad's fine,_ he thought, repeating the words in his head. _But… what if he's right? No, Harry's not thinking straight, he just had a nightmare… my dad's… fine…_ "Harry… you're not well… Neville went to get help… I mean…"

"I'm fine! And it was _not just a dream!_ Your dad's the one who needs help, he needs to get some help, we need to track down his location – he's bleeding everywhere, Ron, I did it – well, a snake, but _I_ was the snake-"

Ron was beginning to breathe heavily. _Dad…_ Then he saw Harry attempt to rise from his bed, and Ron pushed him back gently. To his irritation, Seamus and Dean were still muttering, probably about Harry being a 'nutcase', no doubt, he thought bitterly.

He sighed as he heard voices approach the dormitory; help was coming. He heard Neville guide Professor McGonagall to the beds, in a tartan dressing gown. "He's here, Professor, he's not well, I think he's had a nightmare…"

"It was _not_ a nightmare!" Harry said, placing a hand to his forehead. Thank God, Ron thought, McGonagall was here – a member of the Order here to assist as well, hopefully, things would be sorted out and they would go back to sleep and attend normal classes in the morning.

If… his dad was safe. And with Harry's conviction, the tone in his voice made Ron rethink his persuasion about his father's current situation. Was he okay?

"What is it, Potter? Where does it hurt? Are you alright?"

"Ron's dad," Harry sighed but still panting. "I swear to God, I saw it happen. He got bitten by a snake. I'm serious, it's serious, there's blood everywhere, he got bitten three times. I saw it happen-"

"Saw it happen? Whatever do you mean by _saw it happen,_ Potter?" McGonagall asked sharply, but Ron sensed a tone of concern and anxiety in her voice.

"I was asleep, Professor… I saw it happen, I swear…"

"So you dreamed this, Potter? Was this a nightmare-?"

"NO!" Harry said. "First it was some stupid, irrelevant dream… then it morphed into something different. It was real, I felt it was real, Professor, I swear, Mr Weasley was sleeping then he got attacked, he got bitten, then he fell unconscious, he needs help immediately-"

Ron was trembling more than ever now. His father… he was in danger… wasn't he?... His brief hope that Harry was just dreaming reached zero, as McGonagall said, "I believe you, Potter. Put on your dressing gown, we're going to see the Headmaster."

He stood up instantly, grabbing his glasses and pulled on his dressing gown, as McGonagall looked at Ron and said, "Weasley, you should come too. After all, this is a matter that involves you, after all."

Harry then turned to Elric, at the edge of the bed, "Edward, I just remembered! Professor, he needs to come too!"

"Why?" McGonagall asked. Elric looked as equally confused, and Harry replied quickly, "I'll explain later! He needs to come with us! This is important!"

"Well, if it is that important, Elric, get dressed."

The golden-haired boy nodded and wore a black Muggle jacket over his black shirt and slipped on some Muggle pants over his shorts. McGonagall stared at the Muggle attire, but then paid it no further attention as she led the three boys out of the dormitory. "The rest of you, I would like you to return to your beds and return to sleep. This is not something you are involved in."

The other three boys nodded and returned to their four-posters. But Ron knew they were going to sleep. Who would, after an incident like that? They were most likely going to discuss it. They went down through the common room, through the portrait hole, and out of the corridor behind the Fat Lady. Ron was trembling more shakily than ever. Sweat beaded his palms, he could feel the rest of his skin turn cold and clammy.

"Hey, Harry." Elric spoke up in the silence that had lingered, only broken by McGonagall who had told Mrs Norris to 'shoo', then had returned. "Why am I here? If this has to do because of…" he lowered his voice. _"Order_ thing…"

"Well, yes, technically," Harry said nervously. "But that's not the main reason. I saw Mustang."

Elric widened his eyes. "What? Mustang?" His words became Amestrian, until he realised this and said, "How? Was he with Mr Weasley?"

"No… not really…" Harry began to explain, but then stopped when they had reached a stone gargoyle. The small group of four stopped, and McGonagall said, loudly and clearly, "Fizzing Whizzbee."

To Ron's surprise, the gargoyle leapt aside, the wall breaking into two, revealing the concealed stone staircase within. The stairs moved of their own accord, which was not a surprise to Ron at all, that was the norm at Hogwarts. The stairs moved around in tight circles that would have made a weak person sick easily.

At the top, he heard voices coming from behind a door, that instantly shut up as soon as McGonagall had knocked. The door opened, and the three boys were let inside, the Transfiguration professor following right behind.

There were strange objects and contraptions. Even though they looked not magical or bewitched at all, Ron felt as if they were staring at him. He felt as if something, or someone, or multiple somethings or someones were staring at him. It made him feel uncomfortable.

He saw a red and gold bird behind the door, and Ron assumed that was Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes. His gaze averted from Fawkes to the Headmaster of Hogwarts, saying, "Oh, it's you, Professor McGonagall… oh, and you three. Hello."

"Professor Dumbledore, Potter has had… well, what you would call a nightmare." Harry sighed at this, and quipped quickly, "No, it wasn't, it wasn't a nightmare." Ron and McGonagall gave Harry knowing looks, and Harry added, "Well… I was asleep at the time… but it wasn't a nightmare, honest! It wasn't some nightmare or just some dream, I saw it happen, it was real. There was a snake, Professor, and Ron's dad – Mr Weasley – he got attacked by it. There was someone there as well."

"You saw this, Harry? How?" Dumbledore asked quietly, staring at the ceiling. Ron knew he was turning paler by the minute. He looked at Dumbledore, then back at Harry. _If Dad's been attacked,_ he thought, biting his lip, _why is Dumbledore so calm about it? Shouldn't he show more worry about it?_

Harry went on to explain, most reluctantly, that he was the snake. It was scaring Ron, being frank, almost like a horror story. There was silence, then… "Alright," Elric spoke up, "Ron's dad, the Ministry one, got attacked. But what does this have to do with me?" He looked at Harry. "You said you would explain reason."

"Well…" Harry breathed in deeply. "There was a person with the snake at the time. He was following the snake, he took off Mr Weasley's cloak… and then he removed his hood, and… it was Mustang!"

Elric looked at him in surprise, McGonagall looking at Harry with horror. Ron almost gasped. _What the hell?!_ With a sidewards glance at Elric, Harry continued, "I saw him, he was there, I swear he was on the snake's side, he was with the snake!"

"Y-you're making this up," Elric said, voice trembling, like Ron as the realisation that his father was attacked had slowly dawned on him. "That's not true."

"I'm not! Do you think I'd make any of this up?"

"Edward," Dumbledore asked calmly, looking up to the blonde-haired alchemist, "did you know about any of this?"

He shook his head in reply. "No, Professor Dumbledore, I don't. Mustang was missing. I don't know anything." Ron noted his accent was a little thicker now, his voice filled with nervousness. Ron stared at Elric, who gaped in a mix of confusion, horror and bafflement. Was it right for Harry to suspect Elric and Mustang all along?

"I do not know anything," Elric repeated, in a much darker tone than before.

Dumbledore nodded. "I believe you, Edward, but we now have a more serious matter to attend to." His voice became more serious and sharper, and Dumbledore turned to Ron, who touched his cheeks and almost gasped – they were deathly cold. With fear. With worry.

"Is Arthur seriously injured, Ron?" he asked.

" _Yes,_ he is! There's blood _everywhere!"_ Harry said, and Ron sensed the annoyed hint in his voice.

Dumbledore then turned to the old portraits on the ceiling and based on what Ron knew, the portraits were of previous Hogwarts Headmasters and Headmistresses. But as the current Headmaster ordered them to raise the alarm for his father, it finally hit him. Completely and wholly.

His father _had_ been attacked. Harry was definitely not dreaming. A giant snake had bitten him. With Mustang.

He had helped.

Was Harry right to raise suspicions against the Amestrian alchemists?

He buried his head in his hands, muttering under his breath. Would the worst happen? _No, shit,_ he shook his head. Why would he be thinking about that?

"Alright, Weasley?" he heard McGonagall's voice, and he looked up. "Your father will be alright."

Ron nodded and said, "Yeah. I'm fine…" he was wondering what to do next when he heard a shout from the portraits, calling Dumbledore's name, reporting what had happened. Ron gave a loud sigh of relief when the wizard in the picture frame said that he was found and he was carried up, headed to St Mungo's, but that hope vanished into nothing, as the wizard continued, saying that he "didn't look good" and he was "covered in blood." Ron began to sink in the chair McGonagall had given him.

"Minerva, go and wake the other Weasley children. This is important."

She nodded, saying, "of course," then promptly left the office, to wake Fred and George and Ginny, but not before asking about Ron's mother, the question answered with that she might already know, with the clock that lay in the Burrow.

Ron's mind traced to the clock that his mother had back at their abode; on normal days he and his siblings would have the clock at 'School', and his father at 'Work.' But this was _not_ a normal day, and his heart almost skipped a beat in terror as he knew that the clock hand for his father would lay on 'mortal peril.'

It scared him.

He was shaken out of his thoughts once again, as the door to the office opened again, and Ron saw Fred and George and Ginny enter, looking shocked. They probably looked a lot better than Ron now, he thought.

"Arthur Weasley, injured. Wife, children, Harry Potter and Edward Elric joining quite soon… coming to stay…" one of the portraits said, in a dull, indifferent voice. Ron wanted to shout. Didn't he care? His father could be dying now! But he missed his chance; the figure slipped away from the portrait.

"Harry… what's going on?" Ron heard Ginny at his side, near Harry. "Professor McGonagall says you saw Dad hurt…"

"This can't be real, right?" Fred said, looking wide-eyed with worry.

"Unfortunately, your father has been injured, during his work for the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore said. Ron wanted to cover his ears; he did not want this to be repeated again. "He has been found and taken to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you back to Sirius' house, all of you. You will meet Mrs Weasley – your mother – there."

"We're going by Floo Powder, aren't we?" Fred said, and Ron noted he was slowly turning pale with the news hitting him fully. Dumbledore shook his head, saying the network was being watched by the Ministry, so a Portkey would have to be their source of transportation. "We should hurry, now," Dumbledore said. "Fawkes has warned me that Umbridge is near-" Ron heard Edward mutter in Amestrian. Since Umbridge had been mentioned, he knew it meant nothing good. "Minerva, go and distract her – lead her away – tell her anything…"

McGonagall nodded, then headed away.

Ron looked at the Portkey. It was an old kettle, and he frowned. But then again, Portkeys were usually always old, worn out things no-one would care about. He brought out a finger to touch the top of the kettle, as Dumbledore counted to three; he felt as if he was being hooked to his navel, and the ground slowly disappeared, followed by the office, towards Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

* * *

It had been a long while since Ed had used Portkeys. The first time was around the beginning of the mission when he and Mustang had first met Albus Dumbledore. It was a strange form of travel, but it was quick and easy, nonetheless. He knew he was going to take one again, towards the end of the school year, at the end of the mission.

But he never knew he would be using another Portkey so soon.

He heard the house-elf of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, mutter about 'blood traitors' and Mr Weasley, and Sirius' voice, telling Kreacher to go 'out.' Ed listened to the story again, as Harry told the story of the attack of the giant snake on Mr Weasley, but Ron and Ed exchanged looks. Harry made sure he was a bystander in this version of the story, not the snake itself.

Harry might have been annoying to Edward throughout the progression of the year, but the alchemist felt a pang of pity for the boy. What shook him out of his thoughts and separated him from the pitying part of his body was when Harry mentioned Mustang.

 _What the hell, Mustang?_ Ed thought bitterly as Harry described Mustang, the man in a black cloak, in gloves, helping to orchestrate the attack on the Weasleys' father. He had disappeared for only a few days, only to find the

"Mustang? _Mustang?_ Roy Mustang? _"_ Sirius said, bewildered. "Didn't he go missing recently? I heard the Order sent out some members to help with the search… I could've gone, too…" he added bitterly.

"I swear he was there," Harry said. "He took off his hood and it was him."

"It could be someone in a Transformation Spell or something," suggested Ron. "A lot of people transform themselves into someone else to frame someone or to throw someone off track."

Sirius frowned, and muttered under his breath. Something that went along the lines of 'it couldn't be… could it be related to that incident?' Confused by this, Harry spoke up. "Sirius," he said quietly, "what do you mean by 'incident'?"

"Incident?" Harry's godfather looked at him innocently, as if he had said nothing. "What do you mean?"

"I know you said something about this being related to an incident, Sirius. What do you mean?"

He shook his head. "This isn't really something you're supposed to know, Harry. It's not important."

 _How the hell could someone say that at a time when someone is out there dying?_ Ed thought. Harry continued,"Of course it's important! Mr Weasley's out there, attacked, and you're saying something that could be related to the incident is not important?"

Then it clicked – something had happened a while before Mustang's disappearance. Ed traced through his memory, where after witnessing Quidditch practices, he was walking back to the common room with Potter and Weasley and he had seen Mustang.

He had been covered in bandages, hadn't he? Ron had asked Ed if Mustang had gotten injured. Then he had followed the Flame Colonel, confronting him in the Amestrian tongue for answers.

" _What's with the new fashion statement, Mustang? Did you get injured?"_

 _Colonel Jerk had hesitated before making a response, Ed remembered. "It's nothing, Fullmetal. It's not permanent damage. I'll be fine."_

" _But what happened?"_

" _I'll tell you later. It's not safe to say right now. But I'll make sure you'll know about it – it's nothing too serious."_

 _The lack of conviction, the shaking in his voice as the Colonel had said it. He knew that his superior was lying._

That was probably related to the 'incident' Sirius was muttering about, Ed thought. He made a note to confront Sirius about it once he was well away from the other nosy wizards. This was not important, Sirius had said. _To the Amestrian military,_ Ed thought, a trifle bitterly, _it probably does._

If the Order of the Phoenix had failed to recover Mustang, from the giant snake or whoever or wherever he was, he was sure there would be serious diplomatic repercussions for being responsible for losing a valuable member of the Amestrian military.

Once he had learned what had happened with Mustang with this 'incident,' he decided to write a report to the Amestrian military about this, and Harry's dream of a snake attacking a member of the Order. After all, according to Harry, Mustang _was_ involved in that.

"It's – it's nothing, Harry, I promise," Sirius grinned at him. "I was just making silly guesses." His smile wavered away. "Besides, we have more worrisome things on our minds – where are going?" Harry followed his godfather's gaze to Ginny, who was beginning to walk away from them, her brothers watching her, as if confused if they were to follow or not. The twins made their decision and decided to go with their sister. "St Mungo's,' Ginny said, "We have to go and see if Dad is okay. Do you have any cloaks we can borrow, or-"

"You can't just be leaving to St Mungo's!" Sirius said.

"Yes, we can!" Fred protested, anger building in his voice. "That's our dad out there!"

Ginny was speaking softly as Sirius asked them how they would be able to explain how they knew Arthur was attacked before their mother had arrived; Ron stayed silent, staring at the floor, a terrified look on his face. Fred and George, however, roared back at Sirius, becoming a heated argument about the life of their father in danger.

Though Edward had not bothered to hear the rest of the argument, he was sure that it had ceased when Sirius had reassured them Arthur would be all right, they would just have to wait for their mother before going to heading off to St Mungo's, and offering them to sit down while Sirius summoned Butterbeer.

It had been a while since Ed had tasted the beverage, but the warm feeling filled him up as the liquid entered his system, the delicious taste filling his mouth. Silence lingered in the room like a strange smell, until a burst of fire suddenly appeared, and the alchemist backed away, muttering in Amestrian, _"Shit."_ A scroll of parchment fell onto the table, with a phoenix tail feather. Probably the one from Dumbledore's bird.

Sirius confirmed it. "Fawkes! Is this Dumbledore? No – wait," he said, turning to the Weasleys. "The writing looks like your mother's – here you go, read it-"

George opened the letter, reading it aloud. _"Dad is still alive. I am setting out for St Mungo's now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. Mum."_

There was silence. It sent a shiver up Ed's spine – where he and Al could relate to their concern. A long time ago, maybe ten years. When the infection had hit Trisha Elric, leaving her bedridden, the doctors saying she could die any day.

He looked down at the floor. _Number twelve, Grimmauld Place…_ indeed, this was the place where he had encountered that _thing._ A Boggart, it was called, where they had said, when you saw it, it would transform to something of your worst fear.

Ed bit his lip. A long time ago, it was frightening. Now, it was almost embarrassing to him that he had broken down in front of wizards he had just met.

His chance to talk to Sirius came hours later, early in the morning, when Mrs Weasley had returned, giving the good news of Mr Weasley being safe, and that they would all visit St Mungo's later, and after Sirius had made breakfast.

He went to ask Mrs Weasley, now, like her children, in a much happier mood than when she had arrived, Sirius' whereabouts, and she said that he and Harry were having a little chat in the pantry.

Ed decided to walk at a slower pace to the pantry, but then saw there was no point; Sirius was exiting the place and heading back towards the kitchen, and Ed called for him. "Sirius. I need to talk with you. Private."

He smirked. "A lot of people want some private talks with me, eh?" as Edward pulled him to the side, asking, "Earlier in the morning. When we first came to your house. You muttered something about an incident."

Sirius looked at him. "Incident?"

"Yes. Harry asked about it to you but you said it was not important."

"Well…"

"It is related to Mustang, is it not? The incident?"

There was a pause, and Ed continued, "You told Harry it was not important but it is very important to me. The military. I do not think they are very happy about Mustang… disappearance." He explained to Sirius that he had talked to Mustang days before he had vanished, when Mustang had had bandages wrapped around his head, saying he would tell the Fullmetal Alchemist all about it soon enough. Sirius sighed, obvious that there was no point in keeping it away from him.

"I've only heard about it through some Order members that've visited this place, but… from what I know, Mustang was attacked in Hogwarts by a Death Eater."

Ed froze. _Attacked… by a Death Eater?_ "Death Eater?"

"Yeah, one of Voldemort's followers. He got attacked then Mustang captured him for interrogation; then he managed to escape. No-one knows what happened to him… then Mustang disappeared, then Harry comes along saying

"So you're saying…" It clicked in Ed's head before Sirius' response, and he cursed.

"Mustang's joined the Death Eaters' side," Sirius said, in a low voice only Ed could hear, "Either forcefully or of his own volition, I don't know, but I do think the former – where are you going?"

"Your library of books," Ed replied. "Can I?" His mind traced back to when he first went there; how he had cursed at the books, how messed up the information was, how _fucked up_ they were. Mustang had been there, telling him to shut his mouth.

"Sure."

He needed to clear his mind with this new revelation. Or maybe he just needed something to do. He decided not to follow everyone else to go back to sleep, especially since after he had been woken up by Harry's thrashing and screaming, and he didn't feel like sleeping. Their trunks were still at Hogwarts. Owlbus was in the Owlery back at the school as well, wasn't he, so there was no point sending a letter now.

To Ed's relief, their trunks at Hogwarts and their owls had been returned to their owners. Owlbus flapped his wings in his cage, hooting as he was fed bird feed, and Ed remembered that now that the threat of Umbridge was not lingering nearby it would be better to write to him now. He hadn't received any mail from Alphonse in a long time, with the owl returning with no response. He must've gotten the message that someone was out reading personal letters.

He called for water, and a grey mug fell into his hands. Thirsty, he drank, then spat it out, with the others staring at him, but he didn't care. _No way in hell was that… Was that…?_ He peered into the cup, amid loud laughter, and he stared, wide-eyed. There was the white, opaque fluid that he had always dreaded. He regretted not looking into his mug before drinking. "MILK!?"

Ed glanced around, for the source of the laugh, and he glared at the two Weasley twins, completely immersed in their mirthful glee. He stared at them with his fiery louring gaze. "YOU THINK I AM VERY SMALL, DO YOU? IS THAT WHY YOU GIVE ME MILK?" he stood, marching over to Fred and George, the others having turned their gaze from their lunch to the three.

"I AM NOT AN ANT THAT COULD BE STOMPED OVER BY GIANTS! I AM NOT A LITTLE PIPSQUEAK THAT COULD DROWN IN A CUP OF WATER!" Why, Edward could think of hundreds of more insults in his head to hurl at the twins like a dodgeball, but they were all in Amestrian, most of which he could not translate. He grunted as he saw the height difference – and then went back to sit down.

He was only just a centimetre or two taller than the youngest Weasley child, Ginny. It annoyed him.

"Um, Ed? I'll just go get another drink for you, just wait…" Sirius said nervously. He stood, waving his wand, and a jug of juice and a small cup appeared, flying over and skidding down the table, stopping in front of his plate. Sighing, he pushed the mug of milk as far as he could from him, then poured a cup of juice for himself grudgingly.

After lunch, they were sent to their bedrooms that they had used before the beginning of the school year to change into Muggle clothes. Ed, changing into a new set of clothes than he had worn from when they were taken to Dumbledore's office (a black long-sleeve shirt under a white, buttoned short-sleeved one), took his red trench coat with him, the one with the alchemical symbol.

After he was met with strange looks ("We're trying not to stand out…" "It is not wizard clothes!" "It looks very, well, _tacky…")_ , he decided to leave it back at Grimmauld Place.

So they were heading to the capital of England, the city of London.

It had just occurred to him that he had never properly been to London before.

Tonks and Mad-Eye, from the beginning of the year, were going to escort them. As they headed towards the station in the 'Underground,' Ed bitterly thought of how the wizards had said they did not want to 'stand out' when Tonks had a bright pink hairstyle and Mad-Eye had a bowler hat worn at a strange angle. _Then again, these wizards don't have a talent for being inconspicuous,_ he thought, as Tonks who had been beside him was gaining several looks by normal Muggle commuters.

The train that came to pick them up to London was a lot unlike the Hogwarts Express back at Kings' Cross, the train that had taken Ed and Mustang to Creta, or any train that he and Al had used before, back in Amestris. It seemed more modern, more _advanced-looking._ Unlike the trains back home which had rows and rows of seats as soon as you had entered, there were a line of seats along the side, with a large space in between – commuters, with Ed's observation, either sat on the seats, but when they were full, there would be people standing in the large area, one even leaning against the door, face covered by a newspaper.

The train ride was a lot shorter as well, from one station to another would take about half an hour at a minimum back at home – here in this London Underground, the number of minutes it took to travel to the next stop was definitely in the single digits.

The large party departed on the next step, with Mrs Weasley whispering, "Now this is the centre of London… how people manage without magic…" They travelled up moving stairs, which impressed Ed – it saved a lot more time and energy.

He was very used to bustling cities – having travelled to almost all of the major cities in Amestris – and Ed stared at the shops, with the number of people spanning from none in some and with large crowds in others. There was a sign of a fat old man with a white beard, and red hat and coat, on a sled pulled by reindeer; Ed winced. This was part of their 'Christmas' celebrations, he guessed. _I wonder how the hell those reindeers can manage with a guy like him…_

The way they had entered the St Mungo's magical hospital was a little better than the way to the Platform 9¾, but still strange all the same. They had entered an ancient, abandoned shop, and Tonks had spoken to the most hideous mannequin the alchemist had ever seen, with it nodding, allowing everyone to step through the glass in front of it.

They were led to Mr Weasley's ward, and – Ed breathed with a sigh of relief – the hospital looked more or less like a normal one. He peered into the door and saw the redheaded Weasley father, surrounded by his family and Harry Potter.

There was no place for him to be part of the celebration of Mr Weasley's safety. _They should've left me at Grimmauld,_ he thought, as he saw a sign on the wall, talking about a 'VISITOR'S TEAROOM AND HOSPITAL SHOP' on the fifth floor. Yes, that would be where he would stay.

They offered tea, and some pastries and cakes, sweets and candy Ed had seen from the strange trolley lady back at the Hogwarts Express. He took only a small cup of tea, that never got touched after he set the cup on the table. Only a few older witches and wizards were in the teashop besides himself; there was a silence, with only the _clinks_ and _clunks_ of glasses being set down onto the table, and the scraping of cutlery on plates.

His mind drifted to Mustang and imagined him as a member of Voldemort's crew. A very strange thought, but he wasn't so sure whether what Harry was saying about the Flame Colonel was true.

The bastard. Ed was sure that back in Amestris, Hawkeye would be furious. Maybe worried, too.

He stood after what seemed like forever, leaving the tea on the table and walked back to the ward. Hopefully, they were going to leave the hospital now – visits to the injured never took more than an hour. Or maybe that was just in Ed's case. The only visitors he had, if he laid in hospital, were soldiers, mostly Mustang or his unit.

 _Diplomacy is stupid,_ Ed thought bitterly as he approached the 'Dai Llewellyn' ward. _Politics is stupid. Why the hell –_

He stopped, seeing Harry, Fred and George at the door, one of them holding some strange piece of string. They looked horrified, almost petrified with fear even, and they hadn't noticed Ed until a minute of trying to gain their attention.

He learned that they had eavesdropped over a conversation.

He learned that Harry could be possessed by You-Know-Who.

He learned that bad news always followed or involved Harry Potter wherever the hell he went.

Or maybe he knew the last one already.

* * *

 _You could call Amestris cut off from the rest of the world, despite being landlocked and close to other more modern countries. Because of this "cut-off", this has caused Amestris to fall behind in some aspects of technology (transportation), and ahead in others (automail)._

 _Religion has also failed in becoming a very large part of Amestrian culture, with Arakawa stating that many events we celebrate are not recognised in Amestris because the religions in Amestris' world don't exist (but in the original FMA series it shows churches, implying the Christian religion has died out in Amestris), and with that statement, I think religion in Amestris has shrunk to a minority, with most of them being the Ishvalans. Therefore Ed does not understand the concept of Christmas._

 _Reviews and constructive criticism welcome. Thank you to all!_


	17. AN

To all readers of Diplomacy Gone Wrong,

I thank you all for reading, liking, following, reviewing and supporting the story in any way, it makes me happy to see all these people enjoying the stories.

I'm currently having some stressful circumstances in my life right now, I want to do well in school and I simply don't have the time to write. These aren't excuses - simply explanations. I've also been re-reading this fic and have decided that the writing style I have written is not my best and in some cases I haven't been pleased with how some of the writing turned out (spelling, grammar, punctuation mistakes).

So this is why I've decided to make a major edit on the whole story and rewrite some parts to fit into a certain writin style. I apologise for making you all wait longer, but I have decided to rewrite Chapters 1 through to 16 (making edits to the writing style, fixing mistakes, etc) and post them all when they are edited and completed, then story will continue as normal. This story will stay up on the site, but will soon be updated and rewritten (the ideas and plots won't be changed, only the writing style and several plot holes will be fixed) and will also soon be cross-posted to AO3.

I'm so, so, so sorry about the inconvenience, especially to the readers who have waited so long only to be disappointed by myself.

But please stay tuned to this story. I assure you, it will come back, no matter how long. I wish you all a good day or night! Thank you so much.


	18. Rewrite - Chapter 1

**_This fic is rated T for canon violence, some characters' colourful language and Umbridge._**

* * *

 _To the Fuhrer-President,_

 _Given the circumstances, you are well-knowledgeable of the uneasy relationships with our country and yours, and the plight between your state alchemists and our magical community._

 _During the previous letter you sent us, with "decisions to improve our countries' two-way relations," the Ministry and I have held your words in thorough discussion and deep thought, and have finalised a decision on our plan._

 _Enclosed in the accompanying envelope are further details._

 _Yours sincerely,_

Cornelius Fudge

 _Minister of Magic_

/-/-/-/-/

 _To Fuhrer-President King Bradley,_

 _With the sources we have discussed earlier, what are your future plans with your representatives? They will be tended with the Order at their arrival. Please respond urgently with the accompanying owl. We have no time to waste!_

Albus Dumbledore

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

/-/-/-/-/

 _Diplomacy_. That was the word in English, in the book that translated Amestrian words into English, a book with simple phrases and sentences from that certain universal language. One of several books in his case about the English language and how to speak it. _Pronunciation – di-plo-ma-si (noun). 1. The profession, activity, or skill of managing international relations, typically by a country's representatives abroad. 2. The practice of dealing with situations in a tactful, sensible way._

So that was how you said the word. It was a very strange one. But it had made perfect sense, Edward Elric mused, to use that word to describe a situation – _his current situation,_ to name a certain one. There had only been one catch, however.

Neither meaning of the word _diplomacy_ had said anything about said country's representatives being forced upon this against their own will.

Ed felt that he should have been expecting this, however. After all, he had accepted to be the State Military government's lapdog in exchange for resources normal alchemists could barely dream of accessing. Being their lapdog meant unwavering loyalty to the military, and doing whatever they told him to do.

War and conflict and situations such as the Ishval Civil War had crossed his mind whenever he thought about the circumstances the military could and would put him into (and wished that he would never be involved in). He never expected _this._

He sighed and closed the book, almost with brute force and stuffed it into his case.

He scanned his eyes around his surroundings. The huff and puff of the train mechanics, the hustle and bustle and chatter of the Amestrian crowd and the smell of the steam were all familiar to four years' experience on travelling around the country with his brother. He heard the stationmaster call the time out to the crowd waiting on the platform, the next train express that would be arriving (in half an hour), and the route it would be taking. Ed almost scoffed; everyone had seemed too preoccupied with their own business to bother listening to him. The stationmaster had noticed this too, surprisingly – he cut short in the middle of his sentence, then ambled away.

Ed had arrived an hour early at Central Station, but he had already forgotten his reason. Was it simply because he wanted to taunt Colonel Mustang for his 'tardiness'? Or maybe it had been no reason at all?

His brother sat next to him, holding a map of all the express train routes in the country, scanning his gaze over the one Ed would take. Al was the only one out of the two who had remembered it was the day of the mission anyways. He had woken his older brother up from his Central Hotel bed and had reminded him of the mission.

Maybe that was why he was regretting his decision to be part of the mission. It ruined his sleep.

"I would like to go," Alphonse said, a hint of wistfulness in his voice. "To meet the magical community and read books from their school library and see what they think alchemy is." He tapped his armoured chest. "But with this body, they'll probably think I'm an automaton."

Ed scoffed. "If we could, I'd be happy to trade places with you. But why, though? There's nothing fun about going on a mission when we could be looking, you know, for the Stone…"

If his brother's face could pout, Ed was sure Al would be pouting now. "Brother, you get to learn new information about the community, and you get to make friends-"

"That's a bold assumption from you, Al, thinking I'll be making friends there, or even talking to them at all."

Al sighed, then returned to his own thoughts, and Ed returned to his. He stared at Central Station's platform number, 5. It reminded him of a fractional platform he had seen a month before as a handwritten note on a certain file.

"Ah, there you are, Fullmetal."

Ed looked to his right, where that oh-so-familiar voice had spawned from, and there was Colonel Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, accompanied by his aide Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, and a small party of soldiers of smaller ranks (Ed had seen judging by the stars on their shoulder straps, they were either privates or corporals).

The soldiers (bar Mustang and Hawkeye, of course), stared at Ed in strange wonder. He sighed and responded with no words but a grey, lifeless stare back. They saluted him, acknowledging Edward's equivalent rank as Major, then turned back to the Flame Alchemist and his aide. Ed almost felt sorry for them.

"Hello, Colonel," Ed heard Alphonse greet the Flame Alchemist politely, and he smiled and tipped his hat in reply. His smile turned to a smirk upon facing Edward, then he turned to talk to Lieutenant Hawkeye. He seemed like an outlier among the group of soldiers - unlike the blue soldier's uniform all members of the State Military were required to wear, he had a plain white button shirt with a black tie under a black coat.

Time seemed to be frozen. It was always strange how time worked differently depending on what you were doing - Ed having found this out after three years travelling the country. For situations like Ed waiting for a train, or back in his childhood as he waited for class to end in the last class of the day, it seemed like hours before the train arrived or the school bell to ring. On the contrary, there were times when Edward accessed the alchemy area of the library and stayed there for what seemed like a few minutes before the librarian had told him he had been reading for hours and that it was time for the library to close.

He sighed. Hopefully time would be on his side this year. Get the diplomacy mission over and done with, and go home. Oh, and that mission from that mysterious APWBD, which had details still undisclosed to Edward.

Edward stared back up at the clock. _Twenty minutes._ He could survive waiting twenty more agonising minutes.

Maybe he could survive one whole year away from Amestris as well.

 _/-/-/-/-/_

"Diplomacy." That was what the Colonel had said. That was why the mission had existed in the first place.

The military had called him back as soon as his arm had been fixed.

Britain was the name of the country. Great Britain. Or the United Kingdom. Ed had done his research, finding out that that certain place was something called a 'micronation', the only difference between Great Britain and the United Kingdom being that one of them contained more lands in their name than the other. He remembered calling this 'ridiculous,' and that those British (or United Kingdomish) people make up their minds. Al had seemed undeterred, however. He'd just continued reading the book and talking rapidly about how he'd want to go to the United Kingdom one day after he and Ed had gotten their bodies back (Ed had settled calling it Britain Al had decided on calling it the United Kingdom).

But to make it even more confusing, Ed had remembered, was that they were going to this certain place in the United Kingdom, called England, which was a nation but not a nation at the same time. It had a capital, too, called London.

"Diplomacy," the Colonel had said. To strengthen relations between Amestris and England. Especially since the former had fallen out of favour with several countries Ed knew (their neighbours Drachma, Creta and Aerugo to name a few), the Colonel had explained. It was all because the whole world had frowned upon Amestris' military-government and the numerous riots and civil wars that took place in the country.

In further explanation, Falman had entered the conversation with a perfectly fake 'ahem', piping in to say Britain's government had never been in favour of Amestris right from the start, when its kings and queens had more power than the modern day (which confused Edward even more. There was a government but also kings and queens? A monarchy?). It never bothered Edward, to be honest. His main priority was to take back his arm and leg and his brother's body. He watched, indifferent, as Falman, Fuery and Breda began a highly political conversation, while Havoc sighed, breathing out cigarette smoke while polishing his rifle.

The Fullmetal Alchemist didn't know too much about the west, but he knew alchemy was definitely largely unknown in that area, known only as a legendary practice to unsuccessfully turn metals (or basically any other substance) to gold, unaware of how alchemy had been perfected to become the practice Ed knew today. He brought this up.

The Colonel went on to explain a legend, that alchemy in the West had _not_ died out, instead of perfecting the practice it had already been there for hundreds of years in the first place. It was what the ignorant and unlearned called "magic."

"Rightly so," said Falman, who had exited his conversation with Fuery and Breda, proceeding to say (with a book on that certain topic that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere) you couldn't call the magic "alchemy" anymore – it had wavered so far from alchemy it had not even been close to the alkahestry used in Xing.

Ed yawned and told them to get on with the mission details already. Al, who had been earnestly listening, politely got the Colonel's attention, asking, "Sir, what does this have to do with us?"

The Colonel had sighed, straightening up the paperwork and pulling out another folder. "This… _magic_ community has requested from the Fuhrer a delegation of Amestrians to stand for our country in their society. In our presence there, I'm sure they've requested some… tasks for us. For diplomacy."

That didn't sit well with Edward. He raised his eyebrows at this. "Tasks? Delegation? So what the hell does that have to do with us?"

"It has everything to do with you." The Flame Alchemist who had been sitting in front of him traced his fingers through a pile of folders and pulled out one of them. "In fact, Fullmetal, are one half of the delegation that'll be sent."

The Fullmetal Alchemist sat up immediately. "What?!"

The _tasks_ in question had, Ed had learnt as Mustang had responded to his splutter, involved improving relationships between Britain and Amestris; diplomacy. Well, not exactly _all_ of Britain. It was the minority magic group again, those _"witches"_ and _"wizards"_ and their strange _"Ministry of Magic"_ government that had asked for the delegation. According to Mustang, the Fuhrer would send an Amestrian diplomatic party of two to a certain school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – which was, apparently, a place where all the magic people went to use magic. Then he connected the pieces of the puzzle together and frowned.

"I get it," Ed said, scowling. "I have to go to the magic school because I'm their age and I'm sm-"

"You're _the age of a certain cohort of pupils there,_ Fullmetal," Mustang cut in. Glancing down at the open folder and files in his hand, he said, "According to the Fuhrer, it's a mission that'll expect you to mingle with the school's fifth-years, talk to them, befriend them. Be more sociable to people your age than you are now."

 _Sociable…_ Ed scoffed. Being sociable didn't help him find the Philosopher's Stone. There was no point starting now. Being sociable, moreover, was more his brother's personality.

"You'll have to stay in Hogwarts for the duration of the whole school year – that is, from September to July. During the holidays, you'll still be staying in Britain."

 _But the Philosopher's Stone…_ Ed bit his lip. They still had to look for the Philosopher's Stone… or any other way to gain their bodies back. "This trip is a waste of time for Al and me," he said angrily. "I have other… matters to attend to! This isn't a good time to be hopping off to a wizard school!"

It took a few more minutes for Edward Elric to calm down. His brother had tried to calm him down, saying even if they were both in Britain, they'd do their best and that they could even find a new method to restore their bodies; he'd said if alchemy and magic were connected, it would probably be worth it to visit the magic world and look for answers there. Ed wasn't convinced, but he had calmed down to the point he put his hands in his pockets and huffed.

"Am I allowed to say no?"

Mustang smirked. "Yes, then we can drag you off to be court-martialed for disobeying orders from the Fuhrer himself."

And to make it worse… Ed cursed when he heard the next bit of news. It made him want to go on the trip less and less.

"What do you mean, _I have to go with you?!_ Out of all the people they could've chosen, like Lieutenant-Colonel Hughes or-"

"What, want to go with Major Armstrong instead?" Mustang smirked at him again. Ed cursed quietly. Even thinking about the Major and their (much-less-than-comfortable) trip to Resembool made his ribs shriek in agony. (Not to mention the smell of sheep had lingered on Al after he had spent a couple of hours in the livestock car as a piece of "luggage.")

"And Al can't come with me?" Ed knew the reason immediately. The same reason Al hadn't taken the State Alchemist exam. He scowled, prompting his brother to start another conversation to reason with him once again, saying he would continue the search for the Stone in Amestris while Ed searched around in Britain.

Mustang then held out a hand to stop Edward's complaining, his smile turning to a stoic expression a moment later. "That isn't our only mission. There is another… group within the magic society that requests another… mission during our stay there."

He picked up the folder and handed it to the two Elrics, who first noticed the picture in the corner. A boy about Edward's age – an unkempt mop of black hair, partially broken glasses poorly attempted to be fixed with tape, and a rather peculiar lightning-shaped scar trying to hide behind his bangs.

"Look, Brother," Al said, pointing his large armour hand at the picture. "It's moving."

"Don't be stupid, Al, pictures can't move."

"Well, _this one can!_ Look at it!" The disbelieving older brother moved towards the picture again. He waited. Then slowly, it occurred to him; to his surprise, the hair was slightly being windswept towards the right, his nervous smile twitching for a moment.

He blinked. The picture still moved. "Pictures don't move," he grunted.

"Well, this one can…" Al started, but his voice wavered into nothing when his older brother lifted up a gloved hand to stop him. Ed looked at Mustang. "What about him?" he asked, pointing at the picture.

"Our target for the mission."

"Target?" Ed asked, raising an eyebrow. "What the hell does that mean? _Assassination_ mission?"

"Yes, assassination." Mustang stared at Ed, dead in the eye, his gaze speaking for himself, until he laughed and said, "No, not assassination. In fact, I don't know too much about the mission myself. Apparently, once we arrive at our destination we'll know more. But it involves him." He tapped the picture. "Harry James Potter. Fifteen years old, born July 31. Status is a half-blood, whatever in the world that means," Roy frowned.

Ed's eyes skimmed through the information, not caring about this Potter boy's fact file, until he noticed a handwritten paragraph underneath that _did not_ look like the neat typewriter font above – _Lord Voldemort is back, Harry is the target. Please respond to our request immediately. Thank you for your time, Hogwarts first term September 1_ _st_ _, Kings Cross Station, Platform 9¾, 11AM. Will all be sorted by the Order. – APWBD_

The Elric brothers had many questions that followed, not many of which gained answers, as the Flame Alchemist responded with either a shrug or an 'I don't know.' Lord Voldemort? Edward wanted to laugh. He had met, in his four-year career as a State Alchemists, many pathetic villains with pathetic names – but never one with a name as absurd as _Lord Voldemort._ And that fractional platform made very little sense. Mustang said all of it would be explained on the day of the mission, when they arrived at their destination. That sorted _that_ part out.

The mission, Mustang explained, would begin by he and Edward taking an Express overnight train out of the country to neighbouring land in the west, Creta, around a month from when they were now, then to wait for representatives of the magical community to accompany them and arrange the transport to Britain.

"One last thing," Mustang said, a smile playing to his lips again as Ed took his red coat and prepared to depart. "You do know, the Amestrian language is, you know, only widely spoken in, well, Amestris."

"Yes, so…?"

"In Britain, they speak another language there. A language that's spoken by most of the world, in fact. Meaning, for the remainder of the mission, you'll have to speak in English. And I daresay you don't know any." His sly smile grew wider. "I've already been learning a few weeks ahead of you. So, Fullmetal, try to catch up."

Ed groaned, then cursed. _Damn it, Colonel Bastard…_

Maybe he would've enjoyed being court-martialed for disobeying orders instead.

 _/-/-/-/-/_

The landscapes outside seemed to flash through Ed's mind as he stared blankly out the window. Nothing but a sea of green landscape that followed suit.

It _seemed_ like it was flashing past. However, for Ed, who glanced up every three minutes from his _Learning English Easy_ handbook and his Amestrian to English dictionary to stare out the window, the train went so awfully slow. He sighed and looked back at his book that talked about useless phrases and questions such as "What nationality are you?" "My pet eats dog food." "No, I don't like fruit that much…"

A week before the train ride, Mustang and Lt. Hawkeye had organised for the brothers to meet them at Central, planning to examine his English skills, and Alphonse knew more than him. It had been surprising - no, almost humiliating - really, since Alphonse had been studying English too by reading the books his older brother had borrowed, saying it would be a fun experience and something useful to learn.

Ed had told the Colonel this was due to the fact Alphonse had a body that couldn't sleep, meaning he spent his time during Ed's slumber hours gaining an unfair disadvantage. The Colonel had just laughed and said that the Fullmetal Alchemist's English skills had not even scraped a "satisfactory" in his books. Which was insulting; he wasn't _that_ lacking.

And Colonel Mustang now? Ed glanced on the other side in their small Express cabin. He was sleeping soundly on one of the two tiny beds in their cramped third-class train cabin _(Mustang, you damn cheapskate!_ Ed thought spitefully).

He looked through the dictionary looking for how to say "Wake up, Colonel Bastard!" in English. When he had found the individual words, he looked through the pages again, finding many English synonyms for 'short.'

After all, he needed to know them all so that he could be confident he was being called Edward Elric and not some derogatory English word for midget.

 _/-/-/-/-/_

The sun must not have been pleased with Creta, as the summer heat baked the population and Ed started to complain that the heat was fifty times more intense than it was back home. Mustang told him to shut up and get along with it. "You're the Flame Alchemist," Edward replied snidely. "Your fire is a hundred times hotter than the sun."

"Shut up, Fullmetal," the Colonel had told him, but a few minutes later Edward heard a quip from the older man's mouth about how the sweltering heat hadn't killed anyone yet. Edward looked triumphant.

The people were giving the Flame and Fullmetal Alchemists unusual looks. One of them said, quite loudly and pointedly, a very offensive word for Amestrians. It wasn't surprising, however. Border skirmishes between Amestris and its western neighbour were still happening from a distance not so far from where they were now.

Whatever.

There was a small restaurant, advertising quality meals for a cheap price (which was most likely why the Flame Alchemist had chosen it), and Mustang and Ed took seats, with the former calling for a waitress to take their order. Once they had, there was silence between the two alchemists, compared to the other lively atmospheres from the neighbouring tables.

"You know, Fullmetal," Mustang said, after what seemed like an incredibly long time, "there's an Amestrian-occupied city in this country."

"Yeah, Table City, I think that's what it's called," Ed replied monotonously. "Are we going there after we eat?"

Mustang shook his head. "Table City is too far from here. Besides," he added, lowering his voice. "The British… _wizards_ will be waiting for us here." He said the word _wizards_ as if he was tasting something new and exotic in his mouth, finally deciding he didn't like it. Ed could understand. He scoffed in reply.

"Waiting for us? More like vice versa."

They sat in silence again, until Ed heard a mutter come out of the Flame Colonel's mouth.

"I apologise for the wait, I hope you weren't waiting too long," said a cheerful voice behind them. It almost made Edward jump. He was sure he hadn't heard anything; footsteps, breathing. But the first thought that crossed his mind when he saw the man was how he could be dressed in such a fashion in such weather. He wore a dark purple cloak, with a large flowing white beard and half-moon spectacles resting atop his nose. Some Cretans stared at him, but the old man didn't seem to care. He kept a large, friendly smile on his face as he was heading towards their table.

He took a seat from a vacant table and placed it at the table where Ed and Mustang sat, and sat down; Mustang was doing his best to keep a politely surprised expression, and Ed looked at him curiously, still wondering _how in hell_ someone would be able to wear such clothing under the sweltering Cretan heat.

"Why, hello there." The old man held out his right hand towards Mustang, who took it. Then he held it to Edward, who frowned, but finally took it with his automail hand. Once they had separated, Mustang nodded stiffly.

So their magical escort was an old man with a too-long beard and peculiar clothes that were the polar opposite of what someone normal would be wearing in the summer. Lovely.

"My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," he said, his smile still on his face, eyes twinkling warmly. As the waitress returned and served Edward and Mustang their meals, he said, "We have plenty to talk about. Let's talk about it over meals and a good bout of Butterbeer, shall we?"

 _/-/-/-/_

Ed's knees hurt.

That was because he had landed on them. Not a very painless experience. He was sure his head was hurting too and he was wondering whether the Cretan meal wanted to rush back up his mouth. He shook his head. No _way_ was that going to happen, especially in front of Colonel Bastard and the funny-looking old man, Dumbledore.

Mustang had landed on his feet, and Ed was sure the Flame Colonel was about to give him a smug smirk, when he stumbled on his feet and fell to the ground. Dumbledore stepped out calmly and simply, as if he was walking out of a door, and it made Ed wonder how many of these painful trips he had had prior to this one that made him so experienced.

The old man had called it a 'portkey.'

It was, Ed thought aloud, the worst form of transport he'd seen. His expectations had instantly lowered when old man Dumbledore led them out of the restaurant into an alley and had brought out a small white chipped bowl, decorated with the occasional dust speck. He'd explained that the bowl had been enchanted with a charm that, when activated, would magically transported to Britain.

He could see that Mustang felt the same way Ed did. Less than impressed.

The two alchemists had been told to place a finger on the bowl. Ed had, resulting in a feeling of being hooked by the navel. The experience had been like a carnival ride. Except Ed felt like being sick straight after and that he had landed in a completely different country after the ride.

The intense heat was still blaring in the afternoon sky. Not as bad as Creta, but still the heat was stifling enough to make Ed complain. He got to his feet, taking a moment to analyse his surroundings, which, unlike Dumbledore, was nothing out of the ordinary. Suburban houses were lined up on both sides of the street they had touched down in - though they were houses whose appearances greatly differed to the ones he had seen in Amestris.

"Is that a car?" Ed asked, as he saw at least one parked at each driveway, either in front or to the side of the houses. It surprised him; while some of the Amestrian population kept cars, they were very expensive and looked very different to the cars he saw right in front of him. Then there were the British people, Ed thought, as he saw three cars in one property - two in front of the house and one parked on the side of the street.

"This must be Britain, then," Mustang said, and Dumbledore nodded.

"More precisely," the old man agreed, "this is London. And even more precisely than that, we're in one of London's suburban _muggle_ areas - Grimmauld Place."

Ed made a note to ask Dumbledore what Muggle was sooner or later.

They walked past several houses and cars, until Dumbledore gestured for the two alchemists to cease walking, saying, "We're here. Number 12, Grimmauld Place-"

"No, it isn't. There's a mistake," Mustang said, cutting in, and Ed walked over to his superior to take a look. He frowned.

"Ah," Dumbledore said, chuckling, "that brings us to the next step. Here," He handed Mustang a small folded piece of paper - no, not paper, Edward corrected himself. It was thicker and looked different to paper. It was parchment. "Make sure to memorise this as soon as possible, then burn it." He nodded at Mustang. "I suppose you're good at that. And remember," he added, "to tell whoever greets you at the door these two words: 'Advance Guard.'" He spoke the two words in English, saying them slowly. Which did make sense. Edward had never heard those two words in his English books before. "That will be your code words for you to enter the premises."

Mustang nodded. He gestured for Edward to look and he saw a neat cursive scrawl, and they both read:

 _The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at Number 12, Grimmauld Place._

He looked up. And out of nowhere, as if it had silently crept up from the ground and placed itself between house numbers 11 and 13 - or as if it had always been there. It looked very unwelcoming, however. It was a darker colour than its well-kept neighbours, with a battered door along with dirty walls and dilapidated cobweb-stained grimy windows.

There had been no noise, _nothing._ It was almost as if the other houses, notably eleven and thirteen felt nothing. Or maybe… maybe they did feel nothing. _So this is what magic is…_

"This must be the place," Ed said to Mustang in Amestrian.

The Flame Alchemist, who had been occupied living to his name using his flame alchemy to set the paper in flames, and within moments the paper had been reduced to ashes. He nodded. "Let's go." Mustang looked behind him. "Mr Dumbledore, let's go - Mr Dumbledore?"

"What about him?" Ed asked, eyes still fixed on the door to Number Twelve.

"He's gone."

"What do you mean?" The Fullmetal Alchemist looked back, and indeed, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was gone. He had just _vanished_ , ever so silently. It reminded Ed of the sudden appearance of number twelve. Was this what magic could do? Falman was right. The differences between magic and alchemy had varied so much when the former had wavered so far from the scientific practice. All the laws were being upturned.

"There's nothing we can do about it," Mustang said. "We're meant to enter number twelve."

They approached the house together. Ed watched as the Flame Colonel knocked on the uninviting door.

There was silence, followed by several whispers and the shuffling of feet from the other side of the door. Edward Elric was not one who was so easily frightened, but he felt chills go up his spine. Then the door opened.

It was a man, and Ed had to comment on his appearance, for it was strange. His face was rough-looking and thuggish, and was riddled with scars all over. He had unkempt grey-blond hair and (which was what made the chills on Edward's spine creep towards the rest of his body) a chunk of his nose was absent.

It seemed like the antagonist of a horror film.

But the most uncanny thing about this man was his eye.

It was so unsettling to look at, and Ed's gaze always traced back to that one eye. While one had the appearance of a normal eye, the other was a perfectly round electric-blue eye that moved in ways a normal eye never could.

"Advance Guard," Mustang said clearly. Ed noted the tremble in the Colonel's voice, but it was better than nothing. As much as he would deny it, the Colonel did have a better grasp of English than Ed had currently. It annoyed him a little.

"You're the alchemists, right?" he asked gruffly in a low growling voice. The language the man had spoken in had surprised Ed for a moment. Then it dawned on him. Somehow, Dumbledore was conversing with them in Amestrian. Maybe due to prior knowledge of the language or magic. "No point standing around dawdling. Get in."

He didn't understand what _dawdling_ meant, but he did understand 'get in.' He followed Mustang as the older alchemist nodded to the man at the door. He let them pass through the door, and Ed took one final glance at the electric blue. It stared at him, daring him to make one criticising movement.

Ed sighed.

No, he definitely was not going to enjoy this mission.

 _/-/-/-/-/_

 ** _This is, assuming, Ed's arm is completely fixed, without that missing bolt (which did cause plenty more problems for the Elric Brothers), meaning this story takes place after the brothers and Major Armstrong leave Resembool, but instead of encountering Marcoh, they are summoned to East City HQ instead._**

 ** _Hello, I'm back. This story is cross-posted to AO3 under the pen-name 'emperor_blue'. I'm sorry for the inconvenience and the long wait._**

 ** _I will be keeping the previous chapters up for the time being, as they will greatly assist me in the making of the rewrite. But once I'm completely sure I don't need them anymore (I plan for the story to be changed up a little around the 15-16th chapters) I'll delete them._**

 ** _A review regarding the rewrite, may it be compliments or constructive criticism would be greatly welcomed._**

 ** _Thank you so much._**


	19. Rewrite - Chapter 2

As Moody led the way through the Black residence, he took advantage of the silence between the three men to analyse the alchemists that he had met at the door.

The blue eye he had attained after losing the old one had plenty of advantages. He was almost _thankful_ he had lost the original one in battle - one of the new eye's abilities allowed him to see at the back of his head. Useful for many situations.

The older man looked no older than thirty, maybe a few years younger, donning a fedora. Underneath was clean-shaven raven-black hair that fell over his eyes and dark black eyes. He studied the man's eyes. He'd seen them before. He was sure he had _that_ look in his eyes as well.

Those were the eyes of those who had endured the sufferings of war.

Of course, it was to be expected. Prior to their arrival, Dumbledore had told them in a briefing that the Amestrian representatives that they were highly trained soldiers in the military, known for their alchemical prowess. 'Highly-trained', in Moody's interpretation, meant they had been through suffering conflict - maybe as terrible as the First Wizarding War, maybe worse. After all, with the little information he knew about Amestris was that it was a military state that was in constant conflict with its neighbours to the west, south and north.

Which brought him to the subject of the second representative.

He was much shorter and younger than the man next to him. Too young to set himself upon soldier's path. Slung over his shoulder seemed to be a red coat with a black symbol emblazoned on it that Moody could not distinguish. His long, golden-blond hair was tied back in a braid, with two bangs separated in the middle, and strangely, a small strand of hair sticking up like an antenna. Under those bangs, however, were gold eyes.

Unlike the older man's eyes, however, those eyes had never witnessed the horror of war. But those eyes burned with another look, one of determination, and those eyes seemed to tell Moody that while he had not seen the atrocity of war, he had seen many other atrocities, almost as terrible as war itself.

Moody could tell many things by analysing people, especially with his left eye. He decided these two would be very interesting guests, indeed.

He led the two alchemists through the doorway to the dining room, where sitting around the large wooden table, the Order sat. Moody gestured for them to enter first. The older man nodded, and the younger boy followed, his face unreadable.

Moody followed after the two. He knew the Order was attempting to evaluate the two newcomers with their eyesight like he had, trying to attain anything just by studying them. He decided to break the silence.

"As what Albus mentioned to us in the letter, here are the two alchemists representing Amestris." He turned to the pair. "Standing before you is the Order of the Phoenix. I'm Moody. Around the table are Arthur, Molly, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Kingsley, and Hestia. Order," he turned to the group seated around the table, "these will be our… _guests_ for the next school year. Albus has asked us all to treat them with _respect."_ Moody hoped he had emphasised the last word enough.

After all, he did not want a repeat of what had happened a few hours ago. Especially with the actual guests-of-honour right in front of them.

He saw the younger boy, whose deadpan expression twitched into a frown. He saw the older man, who continued to keep the blank expressionless manner and nodded at the younger. Moody took his place with the Order, and the black-haired Amestrian coughed into his fist and brought his gloved right hand to his temple into a stiff salute.

"I am… Roy Mustang and this is… my _subordinate,_ Edward Elric. It is my pleasure to meet you all."

 _/-/-/-/-/_

Roy hoped his English had sounded adequate. He hoped he said the word 'subordinate' right. After all, that was a word he'd been practising as part of his introductions. Then again, he'd learned enough English in the academy. He'd gained decent marks. So he was confident.

But apparently his English pronunciation either was decent enough or the 'Order' group were indifferent to it. They seemed bothered about other things.

"Excuse me," he watched a red-haired, stout woman stand from her chair. From her attire, Roy could tell she simply was (or just looked like) a mere housewife. From what the man Moody had said, her name was Molly something-or-other. "Did you just call him your _subordinate?"_

He heard a sigh beside him. It was a usual reaction from Fullmetal, Roy assumed, concerning the topic of age, especially with the rumours surrounding the Fullmetal Alchemist and several enemies he fought, that the famous Fullmetal Alchemist was only fifteen years of age. He himself could relate. Since the Ishval War, he'd heard rumours he had been lying about his age to make his achievements seem more admirable.

Not that they were admirable in any way.

"Yes, he is my subordinate."

"So he's not your son or anything like that?" Another red-head. Or maybe that was orange. He was most likely the woman's husband. Roy sighed.

"We are not… family," Roy replied. "Not family blood. I am his superior in Amestris army."

"So Britain never liked Amestris, didn't they?" The red-haired woman said, a hint of coldness in her voice. "I can understand that, especially if they're hiring young boys to be soldiers."

Roy heard Fullmetal curse in Amestrian, followed by some muttering in the same tongue that sounded vaguely like _"Shut up."_ So he did understand some of the conversation. And he took offense. The man next to her, the same man who had asked if Edward was his son tried to calm her down, and she sat down with a huff.

Silence, then someone else spoke up. "The boy's age could be of some advantage to us, Molly," and the red-head woman had turned to look at him. "Concerning the details of Dumbledore's mission for them, it's kind of a prudent tactic."

"I do see your point, Sirius," agreed the man next to him. "It makes it all less suspicious…"

Roy heard a fist slam the table with a loud impact. He frowned. Clearly, she was upset by all this; Fullmetal's position in the military at his age. However, it was not as if she had any business to care. "He's just a _boy-"_

Moody saved the by coughing into his fist. "Alright, everyone settle down." From inside his cloak, he took out a piece of thick parchment then opened it by rolling it open, just like pirates in picture books unraveling a rolled-up map with a treasure that existed in Amestrian storybooks.

"We know what Albus told us," the red-haired woman groused indignantly, "but he never mentioned anything about bringing a _boy_ to a mission against-"

" _Annoying,"_ whispered Fullmetal in Amestrian just under his breath. _"That woman is annoying."_

Roy made no response. But he did have a point. Who was she, questioning the Amestrian military and the personnel they sent on missions? Especially in Fullmetal's case…

Why, Fullmetal's situation was even more questionable. That was a reason to keep his secret kept hidden under wraps.

" _Molly,"_ Moody said her name in a rougher, more dangerous tone, and Roy watched as the red-haired woman, Molly, close her mouth and take her seat once again. "We'll discuss this later. For now…" he glanced at Roy, and asked, "We have more important matters to discuss. I suppose Albus told you all about the inner mission during your Hogwarts stay?"

The Flame Alchemist shook his head. "Not at all. We were told it people telling us when we come to England."

"Well, that would make good judgement," Moody growled softly. "This mission is classified. I trust your leader made this mission clear to a select few, correct?"

Roy met Moody's response with none.

"Alright," he huffed. "Onto the mission. This is from Dumbledore," he added, waving the parchment scribed with neat writing that Roy remembered from the Harry Potter file he had been given back in Amestris, and the writing on the slip of paper he had been instructed to burn just before entering Number Twelve. "Re-reading what he sent us earlier...

" _Order,_

" _After the disastrous failure and the tragedy of Cedric Diggory from last year's Triwizard Tournament, sources suggest the Ministry has been trying to strengthen relationships with other countries, possibly to get more allies after the Tournament and seem more powerful to the normal wizarding public than they really are. According to Kingsley, they have been attempting to strengthen relationships with more semi-magical countries."_

"Semi… semi-magical country?" A woman had spoken up this time - not the red-head plump woman Molly, but another one who looked younger - and to Roy's shock, her hair suddenly changed from a straight long purple to a curly short pink. He was sure _that_ had cut off some years from his lifespan.

The man next to her, a dark-skinned, broad shouldered man who Roy remembered was introduced as Kingsley, explained to her - and indirectly was talking pointedly to Roy and Edward as well - that semi-magical countries were countries that had been heavily concealed by magic despite having little to no magical communities residing there, therefore remaining undetected by Muggles who lived outside their borders. However, there were Muggles that resided there, unaware of their concealed nations.

 _Muggles._ That strange word once again.

It was almost as if the Moody man had read his mind with that bizarre-looking blue eye of his, explaining gruffly that Muggles were what the wizarding society called non-magical people. Which had, in Roy's mind, made plenty of sense now that he had connected the definition of that new word with the way these _wizards_ talked of them.

Roy heard Fullmetal's quiet scoff as the Kingsley man continued to talk about Amestris as a 'semi-magical' country. _"Science, not magic,"_ he muttered, as he spun a fountain pen between his fingers, apparently (or just looking as if) _not_ the slightest bit interested in the conversation at all.

" _Of course, as well as the Ministry's attempt to save face and keep their honour preserved in front of the magical community, comes Voldemort's return - a return they refuse to believe. While I am sure this will bring plenty of danger to Harry, the Ministry will obviously refuse to provide backup or protection against the dark forces. Which is why I have decided to take matters into my own hands."_

"Protection?" Roy queried. Back in Amestris, high-ranking officials had been always targeted by terrorist cells and criminal organisations, so it was the norm for highly skilled (or simply just normal, low-ranking) soldiers to be handed the task of protecting said high-ranking officials from any danger that would come to them - during something as little as a train trip or over a long-time period, no matter how high the risk of death was.

If you survived, that was quite fine, the military would put you back to your normal military job. Should you die, well…

Roy knew as a soldier, he wore the uniform knowing he could be buried in it any moment after. Soldiers _were_ expendable, after all.

"So this Potter boy…" Roy tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Is in danger of… of…" he cursed an Amestrian word in his mind as he struggled to find the appropriate English word. "... bad people."

He knew he sounded stupid, he knew he sounded like a child. But it was better than nothing.

"Quite right," Moody affirmed, and he continued reading, _"I have discussed matters with the leader of Amestris, Fuhrer King Bradley, and he has said that the Ministry has offered a diplomatic Amestrian party to the magical community. I simply had an idea and expressed it with the Fuhrer. He has agreed to the proposition I have offered - in exchange that the two alchemists will emerge unharmed from this mission, of course._

" _So, Order, we will be welcoming two Amestrians into our ranks - a week earlier than what the Ministry thinks. They are to be treated with utmost respect, as they will be an envoy sent to Hogwarts to protect Harry Potter and keep a watch on him against Lord Voldemort. Their identities are unknown as of now, but they will be sent very soon, and when they do, they are to be regarded with the utmost respect, in order to help the operation run as smoothly as possible._

 _Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."_

The Order stayed silent. Of course, Moody had said he was re-reading Dumbledore's letter for to hear. So all the negative reactions toward this letter must have been already expressed, already conveyed in quite possibly… _colourful_ ways.

The same, Roy mused, could not be said for the two newcomers, the two Amestrians that sat with their limited English skills as they were slowly comprehending the meaning of the old Dumbledore man's letter and their true reasons for their stay in the magical world.

They were being _used._ Taken advantage of by politics.

To defend a black-haired glasses boy against an evil magic enemy.

Fullmetal was the one to express his feelings aloud. Feelings that Roy shared as well.

"No!" Fullmetal's splutter of indignation (in English, as well) had brought him into the conversation, and the Order looked at him and collectively blinked. But it seemed like others were on Edward's side - but for another reason, it seemed - he could see Molly once again stand to her feet, a triumphant look on her face.

He watched as Edward turned to him, hissing to him in Amestrian, _"I thought it was just going to Hogwarts!"_

" _Did you forget, Fullmetal?"_ Roy looked at him with exasperation. _"Dumbledore had another mission within our main political thing, you should've expected this-"_

" _I thought it was something like helping the students learn alchemy, or-"_

" _Well, it's not. And since Dumbledore said so but there's nothing we can do-"_

" _I can see you're ticked by this as well!"_

" _Yes, yes I am, Fullmetal. But it's an order from the higher-ups and we cannot complain. If you want to complain, go take it to court or something."_

" _Seems favourable to this,"_ Edward grunted, crossing his arms in a huff.

"See? What use is the mission if the _underaged half of the delegation_ doesn't agree?" Molly said loudly. She looked at Roy. "Out of all the capable soldiers you could have sent - capable _Muggle_ soldiers," she added, placing emphasis on the word 'Muggle', "you sent a young boy to help protect Harry against a wizard that's killed our families and terrorised society for eleven years?"

"We alchemists are… capable for mission," Roy said simply. Why didn't those wizarding people understand? This mission seemed perfectly simple, compared to a couple of other bodyguarding missions he had to perform as a lower-ranking officer years ago. He was sure this would not involve any "hands-on" activity, or even meeting the enemy himself.

He bit his lip. He had felt quite offended that Molly had been focusing more on Fullmetal's age and supposed lack of capability to perform properly in the mission, and not focusing on _Roy,_ who, unlike Fullmetal, was older, a high-ranking veteran and a fully capable soldier serving the Amestrian military.

Molly was about to open her mouth to retaliate, but another woman - maybe, Roy thought, it was Hestia? - quieted her down, saying, "It's not that dangerous. Neither of them will be sent on any dangerous missions that involve them to leave the school or anything. It's simply keeping a watch on Potter, making sure he doesn't do anything. This whole operation is Dumbledore's orders anyway. He knows what he's doing."

The man, Lupin, from before nodded in agreement. "We can't contradict Dumbledore. It's not that bad, and it's very beneficial that Harry receives extra protection, especially with the perfect reasons for being at Hogwarts. Dumbledore knows what's best for Harry, it's not going to be eventful and I'm sure this extra protection will benefit Harry and Edward-" Edward had made a sour face at this statement - "oh, speak of the devil, here he is."

He heard the loud _thump-thump-thump_ from another room, and on instinct, Roy turned.

So there happened to be eavesdroppers at the door. Not surprising.

Three adolescent youths, looking no older than Fullmetal himself entered the room. In the centre was the boy that looked familiar - he traced his memories and remembered he was the boy from the report briefing Dumbledore had sent the Amestrian military - a bespectacled boy with glasses, messy black hair, green eyes.

So he was the boy the dark wizard named Voldemort was after. The boy they were expected to protect.

There was yet another red-head that accompanied the boy - a male, the same age, and a female with bushy brown hair who seemed also fifteen years of age. Roy looked back at the bespectacled boy, who took a step forward and looked at the Order.

"I don't need any Muggles babysitting me at Hogwarts 24/7." Behind his glasses, his eyes trailed from Roy's, then to Fullmetal next to him. Behind those glasses, the boy's eyes held a firm, cold glare.

"And I do not want to watch no stranger in magic school," Fullmetal hurled back in his thick accent, glaring back sternly.

Roy groaned, and buried his face in his hands.

He was almost tempted to bring out his flame alchemy gloves, start a fire in the dining hall then defenestrate himself.

No, he knew he wouldn't enjoy this mission at all.

 _/-/-/-/_

First, Dumbledore kept him in the dark in Privet Drive for the first half of the summer holidays. Then, when the Dementors has attacked, his indirect message to him had been to stay where he was and to not do anything.

Then, against his wishes, he'd organised for two foreigners - who had seemed to not understand who Lord Voldemort was until an explanation was given - to keep an eye on him during his fifth year at Hogwarts and then report to the Hogwarts Headmaster his every move.

It infuriated him. He, Harry Potter, was _not_ a child anymore.

After all, he had been through so many things no child - and certainly very few adults - would ever experience in their lifetime. He was sure those Amestrians had _not_ experienced anything as dangerous as trying to take the Philosopher's Stone from Voldemort, or fighting Basilisks, Dementors, dragons and Voldemort himself.

"Cheer up, it's not so bad, mate," Ron said absentmindedly, patting him on the back as a way of reassurance. "Maybe it's good you got some extra protection-"

" _It is bad!"_ Harry bellowed, making the other two flinch. "Hell, why on earth does Dumbledore even think I need _extra protection?!_ Doesn't he know that I've been doing fine on my own? Hell, he and the rest of the Order left me in the dark for the whole summer!"

Hermione flinched. Clearly, Harry could see in her eyes that she had just been thinking of what he had said to his friends a day earlier, when he had raised his voice. Maybe he had felt a twinge of regret that moment, but his anger towards such a ridiculous 'mission' made him indifferent to her. She regained her composure and spoke calmly, "Harry, I know this isn't really a favourable situation, but you'll have to deal with it. After all, they weren't just summoned here to look after you. Look at it from their side; they must not really enjoy this either. You saw them."

"They're here for politics, whatever," Ron agreed. "Dad told me they were meant to arrive later, just a few days before Hogwarts. All to strengthen relationships, apparently, with magical communities and semi-magical states, he said."

"So Dumbledore basically took advantage of the situation." The words tasted so bitter in his mouth; he struggled to bite back a curse. He laid on his bed, staring towards the ceiling, biting his lip that trembled with anger.

"Get up, we have to get down for dinner." The red-headed Weasley boy shook Harry off the bed, and stopped the latter from drowning in his own thoughts of resentment towards Dumbledore, frustration towards the Order, and thoughts of antipathy towards the two alchemists that had strolled through the door of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. He almost fell off the bed as he struggled to stand, sighing. "Mum is going to yell at us if we stay up here too long."

He nodded weakly, then closed the door behind him as they began to descend the staircase. Harry could notice that the Order crowd was still bustling in the hallway below, talking about all sorts of subjects regarding either the wizarding world, the Muggle world, or perhaps both.

Behind his glasses, his green eyes scanned the crowd through the banisters below. He saw the black-haired older Amestrian, who was speaking tentatively to Sirius, who seemed to be more interested in the former's black Muggle coat and military suit. He skimmed over the two, and then his eyes rested on a certain sight.

He was staring at two golden eyes.

And those two golden eyes were staring back at him.

"It's that alchemist boy," whispered Hermione.

Harry remembered him from their encounter about an hour or two ago. He seemed so disgruntled at the realisation that he would have to bodyguard Harry from Voldemort during the school year that Harry thought that if Dumbledore and the Order wanted top bodyguards to protect him, they would have to at least try harder in finding some that would wholly agree to the task.

His long golden blond hair was tied back into a plait, but two wing-like bangs were framed at either side as they fell to his chin, and at the top of his head, right between the top of these two bangs, was a peculiar-looking strand of hair sticking up like an antenna. It seemed like he nor the older alchemist had changed from their Muggle attire as Harry could see the young alchemist's glossy black jacket lined with white. A bright red trench coat was slung over his shoulder, with a black snake slithering around a black cross with a crown lying above both emblazoned in the centre of the coat's back.

The two eyes averted themselves from Harry's gaze then moved towards Hermione and Ron, as if briefly analysing them. Then they looked away then turned towards the floor. The alchemist boy shrugged his slumped shoulders, then ambled towards the staircase.

"Oh, he's coming," Ron frowned as they stood, as if the three had their feet glued to the stairs, and the golden-haired youth slowly ascended the stairs, showing no sign that he knew the trio were still on the stairs, gaze still focused towards the floor.

"Is this really what Muggles wear?" Ron wondered aloud to no-one in particular, and was ignored by both his two friends and the newcomer on the stairs.

Harry noticed that a book was held, under the boy's right arm. He peered closer, as inconspicuous as he could, but the gold title of the leather-bound book was in a foreign language he did not know.

"So," Ron began nervously, "that man is your dad, right? Or an uncle?"

The blond-haired boy looked at Ron with a look of annoyance. He clicked his tongue, and replied, "So you no hear all of talking, no?" He waited for a response, and when his question was followed by none, he continued, "he is not my dad." The thick accent was heavy in the boy's voice, Harry noted, just as it had been as it accompanied his poor grammar when they had first encountered one another. He paused, seeming to look for the right words, then said, "He is… someone else."

"Who is he, then?" Hermione questioned curiously, and the boy - no, not just a _boy,_ his surname was Elric - looked at Hermione, eyebrows raised for a split second - then they went down again. "I mean, if he's not your dad-"

"He is _not_ my dad. He is someone else," he repeated, the forced pressure visible in his already thick voice, "but he is not my dad."

It was surprising, hearing this tone of voice in Elric's reply. They could clearly hear the contempt in his voice as he finally added, "He is nothing like _my_ dad," then stepped to the side, attempting to break through the barrier Harry and his two friends had created.

"Let me… go in."

"How about… how about dinner?" Hermione squeaked nervously.

"Eating all done. Let me go." The golden-haired boy deadpanned almost immediately in reply, as if he had been expecting that question. He pointed behind the trio, no words said. He had probably made his point already.

They stood there for another minute or so, until Harry, Ron and Hermione finally let him through, and he disregarded their existence as he brushed past them up the stairs. For a few moments.

As Elric passed them, he locked eyes with Harry for one second. His jade green eyes met Elric's fiery, golden ones; and Harry received the message loud and clear.

 _As much as I don't want to do this, let's just get this over and done with._

Harry had to agree.

Even though he was sure he was not going to enjoy this mission at all.

However, as Elric passed them, a small voice of doubt spoke softly in his head.

 _His footsteps sound different. Don't you hear?_

Harry frowned. It was quite a nonsensical thought, he mused, such ridiculous words that he didn't bother thinking about it again.

There was silence, until Hermione broke the quietude. "So… dinner?"

"Dinner."

"Yeah."

 **In the rewrite of** _ **Diplomacy Gone Wrong,**_ **I also want to expand on the relationships between the Ministry and our two plucky alchemists. That'll bring plenty more to boil over in this story. I hope it'll be fun.**

 **Thank you for taking the time to read** _ **Diplomacy Gone Wrong**_ **Chapter 2. Reviews of constructive criticism, compliments and simply what you like and what you don't are greatly appreciated.**


	20. Rewrite - Chapter 3

_Al._

 _So I've just arrived here in Britain, in the place we're meant to stay at. The trip was alright, to say the least. Though I will tell you that wizarding forms of travel are very… quick. But not fun._

 _Breakfast was uncomfortable. Everyone kept on asking me questions. I couldn't understand half of what they were saying - I bet all of those words were from wizard language and not in the English dictionary. Then there were the questions like 'how are you', 'how old are you', 'do you know these wizard terms I'll test you', 'what are the Muggle things like in Amestris.'_

 _Speaking of that strange new word, I learned its meaning today. 'Muggle.' Don't bother searching it through the Amestrian-English dictionary. It's not there, it's some weird wizard term. It means, 'a term used by magical people to mean a person without magical powers.'_

But there was one question that stayed in Ed's mind.

How would he be able to bring up the details of the mission properly?

Granted, Al was the Fullmetal Alchemist's brother, so the former was entitled to be informed of the mission (or, at least Ed thought he was). However, this magical babysitting adventure was apparently supposed to be a 'classified mission.'

And if Amestris was this 'semi-magical' country that the common British society didn't know existed, then how would he be able to explain to the mailman that East City was actually a city in a country that actually existed but didn't appear on the maps? How would he be able to explain the whole schematics of the mission in a simple but brief enough way to not reveal too much? The protect-a-famous-wizard-boy mission disguised under a messed-up-diplomacy delegation?

 _I met these three kids last night. There's the one glasses boy from the briefing we saw. His name is Harry Potter. He's got these two friends that chase after him. I don't think he likes me. I don't like him either._

 _Say hi to Winry for me-_ Ed stopped. All that had seemed too sudden, to talk about Harry Potter then abruptly conclude the letter. But he really didn't have anything to talk about, he mused. He crossed a line through the words he had just written and decided to write a little more: _Apparently, according to Colonel Bastard, it's not just a political mission. Something to do with Harry Potter. And some other wizards. And protecting him during his school year. Yeah, I know that I shouldn't be complaining about this, but I didn't agree with a babysitting mission! We were only informed on it the night we arrived. I don't think Potter likes this situation either. Or me. I mentioned that already._

 _I'll keep you updated. Write back as soon as you can. Say hi to Winry for me when you see her._

 _Your brother,_

 _Ed_

He placed back the cap on the fountain pen, folded the letter and sealed it into an envelope he had packed in his case. Ed wondered where the post office would be; from what Ed remembered from yesterday, Grimmauld Place was a suburban area, and each house had a letterbox, so there was bound to be a post office somewhere.

Then he clicked his tongue in annoyance upon remembering Amestris being called a 'semi-magical country'. Whatever the hell _that_ had meant, Ed mused, even if he had found a post office and managed to hand it in for postage, the letter would never even step foot outside of British borders.

 _Then how do I mail it? How did the wizards manage to write a letter to Bradley?_ He closed the door of his bedroom behind him and slowly descended the staircase into the halls of the first floor of the house. Plenty of wizards, from both the previous night and wizards he had never seen before until now, were gathered, some staying for a few minutes then seemingly vanishing into thin air. He looked around for familiar faces he could approach; the strange-eye man Moody who had escorted him into the house was nowhere to be seen, Mrs Weasley, the woman who had criticised Ed's status as a member of the military, seemed too focused on household chores; he turned his head and watched the bespectacled boy, Harry Potter, his friends and a few others with bottles and gloves, all with displeased looks on their faces.

Ed approached them slowly. The group were occupied with an activity that involved spraying liquid from a bottle onto tiny creatures that reminded Ed of very ugly fairies. The red-head twins were the first to notice him, and then the whole group turned towards him, halting their cleaning work, which made Ed feel slightly uncomfortable.

There was silence, then a girl approached him. She had the same red hair as three of the boys in the group. She placed her bottle down.

"Hi," she said shyly.

Ed said nothing.

"I'm Ginny," she said, holding her left hand out for a shake. Ed simply stared at it, then gingerly took it, thanking God she hadn't been holding out her right. Ed looked at her. "You already know my name."

"I suppose," she shrugged. "Roy, wasn't it?"

 _I'm Colonel Bastard now?_ "No, name it is Edward."

The girl, Ginny, hesitated, but then smiled at him. "How old are you? You look like Ron's age. He's my older brother." She gestured behind him. "That's Ron, Hermione, Harry, Fred and George."

None of them said hello. The Hermione girl gave him a small smile. The twin boys looked at Ed with a curious expression on their faces. Harry Potter looked stony-faced.

Feeling that staying quiet would still be impolite, and that in the month leading up to this mission he remembered Mustang and his brother had continuously asked him to keep his temper under control and to actually talk to other people, he replied, after what seemed like hours, "Yes. I am… fifteen years of age. Fifteen."

Then he remembered why he was downstairs, so he changed the subject and asked, "Do you… know... way to... post office?"

Ginny gave him a confused look, and Ed, thinking he had said it incorrectly, said the word 'post office' in Amestrian, then pulled out the envelope containing his letter to Al from his pocket. "Send… post message. Letter. Letter send."

"Post office. Where Muggles send their letters to be sent to their recipients." Ed turned, and saw a bushy-haired girl walking towards them. She nodded at him. "I'm Hermione Granger. And you're Edward Elric, the alchemist from yesterday."

Ed showed his letter, and Hermione nodded. "I'll take you to the owls. I'm sure Sirius would allow you to borrow one."

 _Owls?_ Was Ed sure he had heard that right?

"I'll go with you both," said Ginny quickly, garnering protests of indignation from some members of the group.

"Hey, what about cleaning?" One of the twins asked.

"Stop trying to skive from your cleaning duties!"

"Cut it out, we'll only be gone for a short while," Hermione said. She turned to Ed, "This way."

Ed followed Hermione past several halls and corridors, Ginny following behind, and suddenly, the whole house was enveloped in a high-pitched, demonic-like shriek, and Ed placed his hands over his ears.

" _FILTH! HALF-BREEDS! MUTANTS! MUDBLOODS! BEGONE FROM THIS PUREBLOOD PLACE!"_

Al would tell Ed that the latter had such a foul mouth, but Ed thought that his swearing was nothing compared to much of what the female voice was screaming out now.

Ginny explained quickly, "That's a portrait of Sirius' good old mum. She tends to be… inactive most of the time… someone must have accidentally woken her up again."

 _Portrait… as in a painting of someone? A painting that can scream?_ Ed curled his lip in annoyance, but his irritation soon dissolved into nothing when he noticed that Hermione was opening the door to a certain room.

Ed gaped.

So he hadn't been wrong with interpreting Hermione's English. They _did_ use those owls to send mail. Owls of different sizes, shapes and colours in large cages, filling the room with hoots and the flapping of wings.

There was one figure in the room, other than the owls; a middle-aged man with unkempt, long, black hair and scruffy robes, with a tired expression on his face. He looked up upon seeing the entrance of Ed and the two girls; he smiled and made a wave.

"Hi, Sirius," Ginny spoke up first. "What're you doing here?"

"Looking for Kreacher." Ed did not know who this _Kreacher_ was, but judging from Sirius' expression and tone of voice, _Kreacher_ did not sound like a pleasant individual. "I can't find that little shit anywhere, he's probably snogging my mother's belongings in God knows where, I bet-"

Hermione coughed into her fist. "Can we borrow an owl for Edward? He wants to send something to Amestris."

"Sure." Sirius pointed to a certain tawny owl in its cage on the windowsill, calmly eating birdseed from a small container. Ed ambled towards the owl, trying to gain its attention.

He tapped the owl's wing gently with his left gloved hand, then the owl abruptly stopped eating. It looked up and saw Ed, then suddenly, brought down its sharp beak and pecked his index finger. He yelped in shock, swore loudly in Amestrian and stared at his hand.

Crimson red was seeping through the white cloth of the glove.

Sirius immediately rushed to his aid. He took out his stick ( _wand_ , Ed reminded himself, not stick but wand), muttered a few words and pointed it to the small bleeding cut on Ed's hand. Immediately, the bleeding stopped; it was if the cut had been already cleaned. _It must have been,_ Ed thought, still staring at his finger. _He did something with his magic._ "Th-thank you."

"You're welcome. Just don't do that again," Sirius smirked. "Animals don't like it when you interrupt them in the middle of their lunch. I think the owl is ready for you though."

The owl was now staring at Ed, or rather, he thought, it was staring at his finger. He was sure that the owl was laughing at him internally. It held out one leg, and Ed, giving the owl a steely glare, cautiously approached the bird again.

"Do it go to Amestris?" Ed asked the wizards behind him. He turned to Sirius. "Owl… bird… fly to Amestris with letter?"

"Yes, it's an incredibly foolproof way to send messages," Sirius replied. "Owls can fly to a lot of places, semi-magical states included. It helps if the letter has some sort of scent from Amestris. It might take a long time to send the letter, however," Sirius added, as Ed was about to turn his focus on the owl, "which is expected because of the distance between Amestris and Britain."

 _The distance between Amestris and Britain? Is the distance that far? Maybe not, but considering an owl is flying all the way from here to Al in Amestris…_ Ed hadn't entirely grasped the distance of the two countries up until that point. Granted, he and Mustang _had_ used magical means to transport themselves from Creta to Grimmauld Place. He didn't know how far it would be.

"So, who's the letter for?" Hermione asked.

Her question was ignored as Ed tied the envelope to the owl's leg, firmly securing it to make sure it would not fall throughout the duration of the owl's journey. Then, finally, he replied, "Someone in Amestris."

"For who? Your military, or your family, or your friends, or…?"

"Family yes," Ed nodded, confident the letter was tied securely to the owl's leg, and opened the window. He then turned to the owl, saying in English, "Go to Amestris," then repeated the command in Amestrian. He wasn't sure whether the owl had understood either of the languages, but the owl made one final hoot then took off.

Ed was about to take his leave, when he passed Sirius, who said, "You should join them in cleaning. It'll be fun," he smirked.

"Only because you're not the one who gets forced by Mum to get rid of the stupid Doxys," Ginny shot back.

"It's not that bad," Hermione sighed.

"Doxys?" Ed looked at them, confused. "What is Doxys?"

Ginny groaned. "Doxys are these tiny little fairy pests," she explained, wrinkling her nose in disgust, and Ed remembered the group composed of her, Hermione and the boys spraying liquid at the fairy-looking creatures, which dropped dead to the floor upon contact with the liquid. "If you're not quick to spray them with the Doxycide, they bite you on the fingers. They bit me a few times, but if you're quick you can get to them first."

Feeling slightly stuck in the situation, and not wanting to seem impolite or disrespectful again for declining in a household chore in a lodging that was providing him accommodation, he quietly agreed, and followed Hermione and Ginny back to the group of Potter and the red-headed Weasley boys.

Ginny took him to Mrs Weasley, saying he had offered to join in the cleaning (which, of course, Ed knew was a lie, but did not point that out). He still had a slight sense of annoyance towards the woman, because of her attitude towards him being young and being part of the military. However, he had to admit that Mrs Weasley was a kind woman, and today she spoke a lot more nicely and stopped her current activity to summon the cleaning supplies to him and explain to him briefly how to kill the Doxys, clear corners and the ceiling of cobwebs.

Ed had to agree with Hermione. Despite him rather wanting to stay in the bedroom and read up on alchemy or learn more English, cleaning wasn't as horrible as the Weasley children made it seem. In fact, it satisfied him to spray the liquid (called Doxycide) at the Doxys, watching them make small squeals and fall lifeless to the floor. The whole house seemed to be infested with those tiny pests, but it bothered him little.

He heard the Weasley boys, Ron, Fred and George, complain curse as they narrowly escaped being bitten on the hands by the Doxys, which annoyed him slightly. It wasn't so hard to spray the Doxys and kill them; why were they grousing over something so small? Ed remembered how he would complain in the office of Colonel Roy Mustang upon the large military missions he had been issued and could not refuse; he had complained for the ten-month mission to the British magical world he did not expect nor sign up for. Life was worse than cleaning out the house of pests.

When they had finished about two or three hours later, Mrs Weasley and Sirius had come in and commended the group on their work. The group began to split; Harry, Ron and Hermione had gone off together, Fred and George had decided to leave for their room as well. Ginny had asked Ed if he wanted to join her, but Ed politely declined; he had research to attend to.

He approached Sirius and asked if he had a bookroom, or a library of some sorts.

"Yeah, I do, but why would you want to go there?" Sirius asked. "There aren't any school textbooks in there for Hogwarts, and I don't think there are any alchemy texts there either, just stuff about advanced magic and spells and stuff that Hogwarts students shouldn't bother learning. I think there may be Dark Magic books there, but I cleared them all out. I think."

Ed remembered when he had first been summoned to the East City headquarters to learn about the mission, where Warrant Officer Falman and Mustang had, somewhat, told him that alchemy and magic were related, through their explanations to Edward for the existence of magic. It was worth seeing if there were any similarities between the two that could help Ed in his search for the Philosopher's Stone, or anything that could bring his brother's body back.

He couldn't just leave Alphonse in Amestris to conduct the research alone.

Ed shrugged at Sirius, and tried his best to convey in English words that alchemy and magic might have some similarities and that he wanted to study them. "Study for Amestris. Amestris government. I have write down study, send back to Amestris. For mission."

It took a few sentences, then Sirius sighed, and told him the location of the bookroom, pointing in the direction of the room with his wand. "There. It's unlocked. If you see anything that could be Dark-Magic-related or _anything_ that looks suspicious there, tell me."

Ed thanked Sirius then headed towards the bookroom.

 _/-/-/-/-/_

The door to a room Hermione had never seen the inside before was slightly ajar, but as she went to close it there was a large _thud_ that came from inside the room.

She opened the door, entered the room and closed the door behind her. It was a fairly small room but it was still full of bookshelves with books she had never seen, probably with knowledge she yearned to get her hands on. She was still looking around the room, looking at the shelves, when she noticed Edward Elric a minute later, books open and closed all scattered around him. There was a book in his hand that he had picked out, but Hermione noticed that his grip on the book was loosening. "Edward-" she began.

Hermione was too late, and the book fell on Edward's head with a loud sound. Edward yelled something in a foreign tongue that Hermione suspected was nothing good, rubbing his head. "Are you alright, Edward?"

He grunted, still rubbing his head with one hand and using the other to pick up the fallen book. He shook his head. "No, am fine. Thank you."

Hermione walked towards him, and picked up an open book she was about to step on. It had a black leather bound cover, gold lettering spelling out the title: _Magical Theory of the Body, Mind and Soul._ The pages that were open depicted a diagram of the human body, labelled with several notes. Edward watched her, and while his expression was blank, Hermione guessed that he did not want her here.

"This is…"

"Got allowed," he said gruffly.

"Well…" Hermione handed _Magical Theory of the Body, Mind and Soul_ back to Edward. "Be careful. Sirius' family has plenty of objects that could be dark or cursed. Books included."

Edward sat down on the floor, cross-legged, opening the book he had just gotten back to the diagram of the human body. "He said he took out all bad dark books. No curse. I no think it does."

Hermione sat down next to him, a question lingering in her head. She decided to voice her thoughts out loud and ask Edward. "Is this part of alchemy research?"

He widened her eyes at her and nodded. "For… for Amestris. Write down, study. For Amestris government."

"Could you tell me a little about alchemy? Please?" Hermione asked suddenly, and Edward looked at her as if she had suddenly jumped out of somewhere to frighten him. He said nothing, but Hermione continued, "It's just curiosity! All your books…" Hermione gestured to the titles of the books surrounding Edward. "They talk about the body and soul and the spirit. That has to be alchemy-related, somehow."

"'Just curiosity'?" Ed stared at Hermione, and bored his golden eyes into hers, unconvinced.

Hermione sighed. "I am curious! I've been interested in it since you came," she admitted. "I mean, judging by you and Mr Mustang, alchemy isn't what we wizards think it is." At Edward's blank expression slowly morphing into a curious, thoughtful one, she continued, "I mean, there's a huge chance that your alchemy isn't a magic that turns everything into gold with the Philosopher's Stone. So… could you teach - I mean, tell me a little about the basic laws and principles."

If alchemy was a power used in an institution like the military, Hermione mused, then it must be a powerful power indeed. It wouldn't hurt to learn more about it.

She had a burning desire to learn alchemy and use it a little, but she controlled herself. Asking Edward to teach her alchemy was all too sudden.

"Not magic, science." Edward nodded at his own words, and said, "Alchemy all about understanding matter and earth energy. It is…" Hermione nodded at Edward, in both understanding of the topic and encouragement, as he had been struggling to find the word. "De...decon...Destruction? Not destruction. Break down something, rebuild that to something else with the same material. Power comes from the earth. Earth energy. Circle helps. Understand?"

Hermione nodded. Edward continued, "Alchemy has one big rule." He muttered something in Amestrian, then looked behind him, taking out a piece of parchment and reading through it. He then placed the parchment down and continued, "Equivalent Exchange. That is a big rule. If you… get… make something, something with equal… equal value is lost. Like an equal swap."

"Like an eye for an eye," Hermione said.

"If this what you say in English, then yes," Edward agreed. "For example, make new thing from other thing made of water. Cannot make wool from sheep. Brings us to… he looked behind him, most likely to the piece of parchment. "Law of Conservation of Mass. Not big rule but still a rule. For example, you have something one kilogram. One kilogram of things needed to make it."

She stored this information in her head, and continued nodding. "So the Law of Conservation of Mass is a sub-law?"

"Sub-law… a rule under big rule, yes. There is another law. Law of Natural… I not know word for English. Think it is another word for 'god'."

"There's a few synonyms that come to mind, but I'm not sure if the direct synonyms work with the name. There are related words, though. Like fate, destiny, luck, providence-"

"Providence! That is word." From the pocket of his jacket, he brought out a fountain pen and opened it, taking the parchment from before, and attempting to write it down. He struggled to find the correct spelling, so Hermione lended her assistance. "Law of Natural… Providence. If something is made out of one material. If something is made out of certain material, alchemy can change the thing to another but it has same amount of same material."

"So…" Hermione tapped her chin thoughtfully. "So if there was something mostly made out of water, alchemy can only turn it into something else with the attributes of water."

Edward nodded, and was about to return to his books, when Hermione asked another question. "Isn't there any way to bypass the law, or overturn it? Or is there something that disregards alchemy's laws completely?"

Hermione watched as Edward hesitated. He stared down at the floor, his golden bangs making it impossible for Hermione to see the expression concealed underneath. Then Edward looked up and sighed, replying, "One way."

She nodded, waiting for Edward to continue, which he did, saying, "There is thing everyone knows about alchemy. Alchemy turn to gold. And… Philosopher's Stone." She widened her eyes at that. "You know what it is, right? Everyone thinks alchemy is all about it. But I think no alchemist from Amestris ever see Philosopher's Stone before. Only a legend. Legend of a red stone. Red like blood. Can do alchemy without alchemy rules. Without alchemy laws. Some people say you can make it. It can do many things. Legend says it can even bring back dead people."

Hermione looked at him, her mouth slightly open. _That can't be right._ She remembered the Philosopher's Stone from three and a half years ago, from her first year at Hogwarts. A blood-red stone. Looking back, Hermione recalled that while Harry had been the one who had attained the Stone shortly before the Stone's destruction, there were no alchemical powers attributed to it. And the Stone could be made? Wasn't there only one in existence? Wasn't Nicolas Flamel the one who made the Stone?

She hadn't realised that she had been muttering these thoughts aloud, and in the silence between her and Edward, she was sure the latter had heard her. He froze, eyes widened just like Hermione's when he began talking about the Philosopher's Stone.

"How about the Elixir of Life?" she asked Edward suddenly.

"Elixir of… Life?"

"If you keep on drinking the Elixir, you can live beyond your normal lifespan and live forever, isn't that right? It's a liquid from the Philosopher's Stone-"

"No such thing," Edward said, shaking his head. "What did you mean when you said Harry had Stone? Harry Potter had Philosopher's Stone?"

Hermione cursed out quietly for voicing her thoughts aloud without her even realising it. She gave in and decided to tell Edward. Maybe he could help answer her questions about the Stone, because she was sure things weren't adding up. "Back in our first year at Hogwarts. There was a Philosopher's Stone, and You-Know-Who was trying to steal it to become more powerful because the Stone had the Elixir of Life that could make him immortal. Harry got to the Stone."

"Philosopher's Stone exists?" Edward said slowly, as if trying to absorb that information, but Hermione noted the slight hint of excitement in his voice. "It exist? Where is Stone now?"

Hermione hesitated. She sighed, and said, "... It's gone now." Edward opened his mouth to reply, but she continued, "When Harry got the Stone, he ended up meeting You-Know-Who and almost got killed by him, and the Stone got destroyed."

Edward looked down at the ground in silence, then sighed. After what seemed like forever, he asked, "Did Stone have alchemy power?"

"What?"

"Did Harry Potter or anyone else use the Stone for alchemy?"

"I don't think so," Hermione replied, and Edward looked more downtrodden. "We all thought before you and Mr Mustang came that alchemy was magic that could turn things to gold and make you immortal. I don't think anyone even knew you could use it in the way you're probably thinking."

Another pause, then Edward sighed again, muttering a few foreign words in Amestrian. "Well, that is all. All I will teach you. No more."

"Can't you teach me a little more?" Hermione asked. "About how to _do_ alchemy? Please?"

Edward shook his head firmly, and Hermione received the message that nothing else would convince him. "No. Cannot change my mind. Alchemy takes long time to learn. Is hard. To train spirit for alchemy, must train body too." She opened her mouth to ask what that meant, but Edward resumed, saying, "I taught you laws of alchemy. Go and read books. I do not feel you are ready to learn alchemy yet. Mustang will say no too. Maybe when I give think, maybe when you ready, maybe I will tell more. But for now-"

Hermione looked behind her as the door suddenly opened, cutting off Edward's words. Standing at the door was Mr Mustang, who scanned his gaze around the room, from the bookshelves, to Hermione, to the books scattered among the floor, and Edward. In his deep voice he said, "Sirius Black said you were here. I need to speak with Edward."

Edward frowned, and spoke back to Mustang in a tone of indignation in Amestrian. Mustang shot back to the former in the same language as well, a sly smile on his face. Edward, who had turned slightly red, raised his finger against the older alchemist, muttering foreign words that Hermione thought were probably nothing but colourful, as he picked up two or three books from the floor and placed them into a pile, _Magical Theory of the Body, Mind and Soul_ included. He placed the rest of the books back into the bookshelf and took the books that he had kept for himself then promptly left, following Mustang who had given Hermione one final nod before he left.

She stood, her mind still wandering to thoughts about the Philosopher's Stone. She still had a lot of questions, but she was sure none of them would be answered today. She exited the room, heart thumping slightly faster than normal.

 _/-/-/-/-/_

" _We're going to have to talk, Fullmetal,"_ Mustang explained in Amestrian. _"About the details of the mission."_

" _Now?"_ Ed narrowed his eyes at the older man. In the same foreign tongue, he responded, as he laid himself down on the four-poster bed, _"I'm not interested. Protecting Harry Potter can be for when magic school starts."_ He tapped the books he had taken from the Black family's bookroom beside him. _"I'm busy with research."_

" _No, not that,"_ The Flame Colonel glared at him pointedly. _"You do remember that this mission is all about strengthening ties in the Amestrian-British political relationship?"_

" _Oh, that! Nope, never knew,"_ Ed said in the most sarcastic tone he could muster, smirking afterwards. Annoying Colonel Bastard was a pastime he enjoyed a lot.

" _Shut up, shorty, and listen to what I have to say-"_

" _WHO ARE YOU CALLING A MICROSCOPIC BEAN THAT USES ANTS FOR TRANSPORT-"_

" _From what I heard from Mr Kingsley,"_ Mustang sat down on a chair in the corner of their bedroom, completely disregarding Ed's outburst, _"Harry Potter is to go on a hearing tomorrow."_

Ed sat up from the bed, staring at the Flame Alchemist in disbelief. _"Hearing? Like court trial, or is that some word that means something else in wizard language…?"_

Mustang looked at him as if he were an idiot. _"A disciplinary hearing."_ When Ed opened his mouth to ask why, Mustang cut him off with a wave of his hand and continued, _"That's what I gathered anyway. Something about using magic outside of school."_ (So _that_ was why Ed had witnessed none of the kid wizards performing magic of any sort. That disappointed him.) _"He'll be going to the Ministry of Magic headquarters or something to be trialled-"  
_

" _I'm not sitting through a court-trial with a bunch of old geezers telling off a magic kid for using magic, speaking in some language I barely know."_

" _I already told you before, the mission is not just about Harry Potter but about politics and our countries' relationships. The thing is, Mr Weasley told me at dinner today that Harry Potter will be accompanying him to the Ministry of Magic for his trial tomorrow. And we're going to go with them, and meet the Minister for Magic to discuss plans for our stay in Hogwarts in September."_

" _Is it necessary?"_ Ed was asking this as a genuine question.

" _The Fuhrer made it clear we are a delegation, Fullmetal. While Mr Dumbledore did request for us to look after Harry Potter during the Hogwarts school year, our main mission is still being a political delegation to improve the relations between Britain and Amestris. So yes, it's very necessary."_

Ed made a disapproving noise with his mouth. He still was unconvinced that this was a necessary task to complete, and he showed it to Mustang with his expression. Sighing in exasperation, the older alchemist reached over to the small desk on the side of their bedroom and showed the younger a piece of parchment with neat cursive.

" _Kingsley Shacklebolt gave this to me today,"_ Mustang explained, and Ed moved towards him to peer over his arm at the letter in the former's hand. His eyes traced the first few words of the letter. _"It's from the Minister. According to Shacklebolt, he was ordered by the Minister to see us into Britain. But since he's part of the Order, he told Dumbledore and Dumbledore decided to pick us up instead."_

" _It's in Amestrian,"_ Ed noted, bringing the subject back to the letter. Indeed, the whole letter was now _"Does the Minister know Amestrian like the Dumbledore guy?"_

Mustang shook his head. _"Shacklebolt brought out his magic stick and did something called a 'Translation Charm' on it. I don't know when the charm wears off, though, so you should start reading it, Fullmetal."_

He took the letter from Mustang's hands and he went back to his bed.

 _To the Amestrian alchemists concerned,_

 _I would like to formally welcome you to Britain, upon my knowledge that you have arrived to our country safely._

 _I would like to keep this letter brief, and matters short, so I will get straight to the point:_

 _To officially welcome you to our country, and to discuss your roles in the upcoming school year during your time at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as part of the Amestrian-British agreement, I cordially invite you to the Ministry of Magic office tomorrow morning. There I will give you further instructions on your mission and hopefully get off to a good start to an improvement to the relations between our two countries, as well as help you get accustomed to the ways of the magical world._

 _I expect to see you tomorrow._

 _Yours faithfully,_

Cornelius Fudge

 _Minister for Magic_

" _How do we even get there?"_ Ed put on a sour face as his eyes reread the letter. _"He didn't even tell us how to get there! He didn't even tell us what time we're meant to be there! Are you sure he's the Minister?"_

" _Fullmetal,"_ Mustang chastised, glaring at him with his black eyes. _"This is_ important _, as you can see. So both you and me will have to go to the Ministry tomorrow and talk to this Cornelius Fudge person."_

" _It's an invite,"_ Ed told the older. _"Meaning we don't have to accept it."_

" _He's the Minister, Fullmetal. When people like him say 'invite', they always mean it as an order. He even said 'I expect you to be there',"_ Mustang added, reminding the younger. _"As for transportation, I already told you at the beginning. We're accompanying Mr Weasley to the Ministry of Magic tomorrow. We're going with them and Potter is coming too because of his hearing."_

Ed groaned and took one of the books he had obtained from the Black family bookroom, and tried to get immersed in the content, despite his mind still wandering off to the events of the next day. Then he suddenly sat up from the bed, which caused Mustang to almost jump. He looked back on the younger, eyebrow raised.

" _I remember something from today,"_ Ed said. _"Just before you told me about all this I was with the Hermione girl."_

 _/-/-/-/-/_

Harry had been ascending the stairs, feeling upset how Dumbledore had visited Grimmauld Place without checking on him. The stairs made a low creaking sound as he did, but as soon as the sound had been made, he looked up and saw Fred and George furiously placing index fingers on their lips in a 'shush' motion as their sides were pressed against a bedroom door.

Upon seeing Harry's confused look, George beckoned for him to join them. He crouched down alongside them, about to open his mouth to ask what they were doing, but Fred beat him to it and mouthed: _Be quiet._ He held up an Extendable Ear, and then the twins turned back towards the door.

"What are you _doing?!"_ Harry hissed, and the twins glared at him, making shushing gestures, then pointed to the Extendable Ear. "Give it a listen," Fred whispered. "You might want to hear what they're talking about."

"Who…" Harry's voice wavered away as he was handed the Ear. He moved closer to the door and held the Ear up, and was immediately greeted with the annoyed, loud voice of Edward Elric... in what seemed like perfect, fluent English. Harry widened his eyes in surprise upon hearing that.

"-not sitting through a court-trial with a bunch of old geezers telling off a magic kid for using magic, speaking in some language I barely know!"

 _How…_ Harry opened his mouth, but the twins quickly shushed him again, just in time for Mustang to say, "...And we're going to go with them, and meet the Minister for Magic to discuss plans for our stay in Hogwarts in September."

His eyes widened larger, and he bit his lip which was trembling slightly in anger. The Minister? Harry was about to wonder why the two Amestrians needed an audience with Fudge when he remembered that this was the entire reason for their arrival into Britain in the first place. He returned his focus back to the Extendable Ear and the conversation. Ed seemed to feel like Harry towards this news, and he complained back.

Then, a sigh followed by a pause. Then, Harry heard Mustang's voice breaks the silence: "Kingsley Shacklebolt gave this to me today. It's from the Minister. According to Shacklebolt, he was ordered by the Minister to see us into Britain. But since he's part of the Order, he told Dumbledore and Dumbledore decided to pick us up instead."

 _Dumbledore…_ he remembered the sinking feeling he had felt just a while ago when he found out the old Headmaster had visited Grimmauld Place while Harry was asleep. He'd had enough time to take the two Amestrians, strangers the old man had never met before their first encounter, to Grimmauld, but not enough time (or the decency) to talk to Harry during his brief visit to the house. He moved his focus away from his troubling thoughts and back to the conversation on the other side of the door.

"Fullmetal." Mustang's voice boomed through the Extendable Ear. "This is important, as you can see. So both you and me will have to go to the Ministry tomorrow and talk to this Cornelius Fudge person."

Harry widened his eyes in shock at that statement, looking at Fred and George who had the same perplexed expressions. Fred mouthed to him, _Isn't your hearing tomorrow?_

A sinking feeling began taking over Harry again. He had almost forgotten, in the spur of the moment, his disciplinary hearing was taking place the following day.

"It's an invite," Elric said. "Meaning we don't have to accept it."

"He's the Minister, Fullmetal. When people like him say 'invite', they always mean it as an order. He even said 'I expect you to be there'. As for transportation, I already told you at the beginning. We're accompanying Mr Weasley to the Ministry of Magic tomorrow. We're going with them and Potter is coming too because of his hearing."

Harry bit his lip in frustration. He knew Elric on the other side of the door was feeling annoyed by the whole situation as well, but for a different reason. Anger slowly boiled up in him as he remembered that the two alchemists were going to meet with a man who Harry was sure hated him and thought of him as an attention-seeking lunatic.

"-I was with the Hermione girl." George had shaken his shoulder, which also shook Harry out of his thoughts, and he held the Extendable Ear tighter upon the mention of Hermione's name. He knew that by his sides, Fred and George were also now listening intently, not wanting to miss a single word now that Hermione was mentioned.

"One of Harry Potter's friends?" Mustang replied.

"Yeah, her. She came up to me, you saw her, and she asked me to teach her a little about alchemy."

A brief pause. "Did you end up teaching her?"

"No, I said she wasn't ready to. However, I did teach her some of the basic laws." Harry heard a chuckle from the other end, from Elric. "I might have sounded like an idiot because of all the English words I didn't know. But that's not important. We were talking about alchemy… then the Philosopher's Stone came into conversation."

Harry turned to Fred and George in a mix of confusion and mild shock. Fred mouthed to him, _Didn't the Philosopher's Stone get destroyed? Because of that fiasco with you and You-Know-Who?_

He settled his erratic breathing as Elric continued, "It exists. It's not just a legend. It actually, really exists. And according to Hermione, Harry Potter had the Stone. Around the time when he was in his first year at school."

Harry cursed silently. How would Hermione easily let slip of something like the Philosopher's Stone? He made a mental reminder to confront Hermione about this.

"So?" Harry heard Mustang break the pause between the two alchemists. "What will that mean for you? Will you go and-"

"I can't," Elric snapped, poorly hiding the frustration in his tone. "Hermione said that Harry Potter met the dark wizard we're meant to be protecting him from, and the Stone got destroyed." There was a sigh, and then: "Colonel Bastard, have you heard of the Elixir of Life before?"

"No. Why?"

"Hermione told me the Stone had a liquid called the Elixir of Life before. She said if you kept drinking it you could live longer than your normal lifespan should be. Almost immortal. But it's not in any of the alchemical texts I've read. And the military has plenty of top-secret alchemy resources and research."

"I haven't heard of it either," Mustang replied. "But could the Stone really have an Elixir? That can't be possible. The legend only states that it can help an alchemist perform alchemy without having to abide with alchemy's most important laws. I've never heard of an Elixir of Life."

Harry heard a groan through the Extendable Ear. Mustang continued, "Don't be too angered by the situation, Fullmetal. It might not even be an actual Philosopher's Stone. After all, this is a world tied to magic, not alchemy."

"Yes, but I thought-" Then the conversation abruptly switched to a foreign language Harry had only heard in the past two days, when those two alchemists had been conversing privately with one another. _Amestrian._

He slowly got to his feet. Fred and George followed him as they retreated to Harry's bedroom, the door closing behind them. For a few minutes, the three boys sat in silence, a strong sense of perplexity and confusion regarding what they had just heard lurking in the air like a bad smell.

Then, George broke the quietude.

"They must be here looking for the Philosopher's Stone. There's no doubt about it."

Fred agreed. "That Elric guy… he seemed very annoyed when he found out the Stone was destroyed. He even said 'it's not in any of the alchemical texts I've read.' It's _clear_ that he's looking for the Stone?"

"How did you do that?" Harry broke into the twins' exchange abruptly. "The alchemists can't speak fluent English… can they?"

Fred and George exchanged looks, then smirked gleefully at Harry.

Translation Charm, they said it was called. According to the twins, they had learned it by copying their father a year or two back, the spell being around sixth-year level. Fred said the charm could easily translate any language, whether it be the foreign texts of a book or, like what they had just intruded in, a conversation in an alien tongue. "The longer the Charm lasts is how good you are at casting it," George grinned. "Before when we tried it, the charm only lasted a minute or so but now it works a treat for us."

Harry sighed. "Okay, a Translation Charm. But the Philosopher's Stone…" His mind was racing with thoughts as it replayed the conversation. Was that why they had accepted the mission? Did their country's know about this, or the existence of the Stone itself? He knew that the Philosopher's Stone played an essential part in alchemy, common knowledge had taught him that, but until now it had never crossed his mind that the alchemists could have sought after it.

However, it seemed that even the alchemists' knowledge of the Stone was limited. Harry remembered Elric had said that there was barely anything on the Philosopher's Stone in any of his research, and both Amestrians had expressed no prior knowledge of the Elixir of Life at all. Was that why they had come to Amestris…? Were Fred and George right?

And in the unlikely event there was another Stone in existence and the alchemists acquired it, what did they want with the Stone? What was their purpose?

 _Alchemists in the military…_ Would they use it for military purposes? Was that their motive? The thought disgusted him.

"Don't tell anyone about this," Harry warned the twins.

"Alright, but don't think we're going to drop this subject between the two of us anytime sooner," Fred promised, then the two of them Apparated out of his room with a large _pop._

Harry stood and began to change in his pyjamas. He had more pressing matters to attend to, he mused; the disciplinary hearing was taking place tomorrow where it would be decided whether he was allowed to return to Hogwarts. But the thoughts of Elric and Mustang's true motives lingered in his mind, and Harry decided that it would be prudent to tell Hermione and Ron once he returned.

Then he remembered. The Ministry. Edward and Mustang would be there. They would be accompanying him and Mr Weasley for the journey to the Ministry. He reminded himself to keep an indifferent composure around them tomorrow, so that his expressions would not give anything away.

But he shook his head. _Stop thinking about it. Don't worry about them. You might not even go back to Hogwarts. Think about it when the hearing's over._

 _But what if you don't go back to Hogwarts?_ Another voice spoke up in his mind.

"Shut up," Harry growled, to no-one in particular. "I'll think about everything tomorrow."

He laid down on his bed, pulled the blanket over him, and by the time Ron had entered the bedroom, Harry was fast asleep.

* * *

 **I apologise for the long wait. Any forms of constructive criticism regarding any aspect of the story is welcome.**

 **Regarding the previous chapters, I will remove them within the release of the next two or three chapters for easier reading. I apologise for keeping them up so long. This story is going a bit of a different direction than its original so it would be better and definitely more convenient for basically everyone to remove the first 15 chapters of the original.**

 **Thank you for reading Chapter 3.**


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